It's only natural that mother knows best

I can't thank my mum enough for force feeding my body the right fuel. Shame it took me 30 years to come around to her way of thinking.

If I ever needed evidence to support the claim that "mother knows best", I certainly got it this week. Having suffered from a lingering sore throat and unsuccessfully self-medicated a cold for the past 10 days - it was somewhat fortuitous that I should be commissioned to write a piece about alternative flu remedies.

Interviewee after interviewee extolled the virtues of herbal medicine, an organic diet and plenty of exercise for a long and healthy life. They also claimed an abstinence from antibiotics ensured their swift recovery from illness and maintained a robust immune system.

I remained a sceptic, struggling to rationalise how a gnarled root of ginger and diced onion were able to trump the mighty force of Amoxycillin. Nevertheless, in the name of research, I gave it a go and duly stocked up on honey, herbal teas, probiotics, local veggies and an entire alphabet of supplements.

With my regime underway and my morning kick-started with a mug of hot water and lemon, the dots started to connect. Long have female members of my family been drinking this breakfast brew and raising eyebrows in restaurants by ordering fresh mint tea rather than coffee after a meal. Could there really be something in it?

More pennies dropped throughout the week as updating my food diary became something of a 20km run down memory lane. And tucking into a packets of nuts and dried fruit (instead of my habitual afternoon chocolate bar) suddenly took me back to prep-school.

Lunch time was never something I looked forward to as a child, for I knew only too well what my bright yellow tuck box contained. Precisely no tuck at all.

Lentils, rice and brown bread sandwiches made up the weekly menu and, "as a treat", sachets of sunflower seed and raisins would often be hiding inside a piece of kitchen roll. Far from taste being the problem, it was the giggles from my fellow diners who chomped merrily on Cheesy Wotsits and ruler-long Curly Wurly bars that made my cheeks flush.

How I longed for an additive-packed box of Um Bungo juice or a humble Proustian madeleine. But alas, it was not to be. Now, of course, I think my mother was light years ahead of her time and I can't thank her enough for force feeding me all the goodness the health-food chain Holland & Barrett had to offer. She's rarely ill so I guess there's a lot to be said for feeding your body the right fuel. Shame it took me 30 years to come around to her way of thinking. So look out for me in the organic section of your local supermarket. I'll be the flu-free evangelist eager to compare notes on the perfect sprouted adzuki-bean and kale salad. Sounds delicious, doesn't it?