I thought my work revolved around taste. Turns out, it’s the gut.

Every job has its organ. I always thought mine was the palate, but apparently, my colon has something to say about it.

If someone asked me: Which organ of your body would you associate with your work? I would immediately think of my nose, capturing the aromas of the food I prepare or taste; then my mouth, with its taste buds helping me scan flavors, memorize them, and imagine new combinations; my hands, chopping, breading, kneading.

But these past few days have made me reconsider: the organ that governs my work as a food educator and culinary writer is the intestine. And I found out the hard way when my colon started acting up.
It all began just before Christmas, with a stabbing pain on my right side. I’m very careful about what I eat: mostly vegetarian, no frying, seasonal ingredients prepared simply. And yet, the doctor’s verdict was clear: irritable bowel – or, shall I say, pissed-off bowel.

Imagine the joy of discovering that my holiday menu would consist of plain rice, boiled potatoes, and chicken. Meanwhile, I was dreaming of lasagna, rustic pies, fried artichokes, and every type of cheese imaginable. Not to mention the stash of red wines I had been looking forward to uncorking (Malvasia Nera, Nero di Troia, Tai Rosso, Aglianico).

The gut is a second brain. It’s the seat of intuition and instinct. The core of emotions and emotional intelligence. Sometimes the body speaks before the mind does.
I wondered: What was my colon trying to tell me?

Christmas hasn’t felt like a joyful occasion for years, especially since my father passed away. This year was also my first Christmas as a separated woman.
Was my gut sabotaging me or trying to help me skip Christmas and New Year’s altogether? Was it supporting me in processing something my mind refused to digest?
Either way, I spent December 25th in bed with a fever and probiotics. And January 1st was no different.

Today my colon is still sulking, and I’m sticking to my diet of stewed apples and plain rice to soothe its irritation.
Culinary magazines, Instagram feeds, and newsletters are flooded with advice for a January filled with “light” and “detox” recipes. By sheer coincidence, I’m perfectly aligned.

So, I’ll spare you the recipes for plain rice and broth, although my dog seems to appreciate them immensely. At least she keeps me company and looks very happy licking her bowl clean of boiled potatoes.

In the meantime, I’m undergoing a series of tests to figure out what’s going on. My biggest fear? Finding out the culprit is gluten – a true nemesis for an Italian, no doubt – or lactose, which would mark the tragic end of my love story with cheese.

In our last phone call, my mother said: Flavia, what’s happening to you is just a reminder that we’re not robots.
And she’s probably right. I need to take some time to pause, giving my gut the chance to digest and let go.

Maybe we all need a moment in January to slow down and really listen to our bodies. Has your body ever forced you to stop? Tell me, if you feel like sharing.

Sending you a big hug,
Flavia