There’s hardly been a day since I was five years old that I didn’t take aspirin, Ibuprofen, or Excedrin to stave off or treat a headache. And like Joan Didion, as graphically described in her essay “In Bed,” I also often give in and spend the day lying in a darkened room. Like her, I have accepted that this is a constant part of my life. The Migraine Relief Plan Cookbook: More Than 100 Anti-Inflammatory Recipes for Managing Headaches and Living a Healthier Life, by Stephanie Weaver, is a gorgeous, honest, and generous book—more than a cookbook—that aims to change that way of life for people like me. With an advanced degree in public health, Weaver is a wellness advocate, speaker, and speaking coach, and, in her words, “an experience curator.” She is also an accomplished essayist and memoirist, which is evident in her clear, precise prose.

The book begins with a meaty foreword by a psychologist specializing in headache management and a nutrition professor, who set the stage and the tone for a cookbook that is about learning to live with chronic illness. They and Weaver say it is about resilience. Quoting Jon Kabat-Zinn— “You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf” —they write, “Resilience is how we learn to surf.”

The Migraine Relief Plan Cookbook is gorgeous for its beautiful design and page after page of appealing color photographs by Laura Bashar, a professional food photographer and herself a cookbook author. The images made me even want to try recipes containing ingredients I don’t usually care for; they’re that beautiful.

Weaver’s introductory information about the science of migraines boldly acknowledges that there is controversy about the connection between food and migraines, and I appreciate her candor—rare among special-diet writers, ones who often claim that their diet will solve all of a sufferer’s health problems. Another form of honesty lies in the many steps Weaver took to ensure that the recipes not only produce delicious flavors but that they also function well. I’ve often tried a new recipe that simply doesn’t work—runny when it’s expected to be substantial, flat and thin when it should be puffy. Weaver tried each recipe three times in her own kitchen, engaged over forty testers from diverse ethnicities, and consulted with experts in Southeast Asian, Indian, Mexican, and Mediterranean foods for cultural sensitivity and authenticity.

Weaver’s generosity comes through most strongly in the introductory material and in the Cook’s Notes found at the ends of most recipes. The introduction succinctly offers Weaver’s own experience as someone living with migraine disease. Reading about migraines as a neurobiological disease with a hereditary component shifted my perspective, legitimizing my experience. This was new and important to me. The introduction also clearly details the aforementioned science of the chronic illness. The book goes on to provide a week-by-week plan for eliminating recognized inflammatory food triggers and gradually reintroducing them to test whether or not they apply to every individual. There are accessible charts that make it easy to identify foods to avoid, apart from the recipes, and there is a shopping guide. The Cook’s Notes offer adaptive suggestions that make the recipes user-friendly, suggest resources, and provide comments from the tasters, proffering ways to experiment with a given recipe and where to access less common ingredients. The end pages offer additional resources.

I felt, in the spirit of Weaver’s honesty and generosity, that I would be a poor reviewer if I didn’t try some of the recipes myself. All three that I made were both enjoyable and offered new discoveries. The first chapter of recipes, “Snacks,” is a response to requests for more snack recipes from readers of Weaver’s 2017 book, The Migraine Relief Plan. I tried the Chewy Cherry Oat Bars, and discovered that they were really delicious if I ate them after they’d been refrigerated, as instructed. I had been impatient and tried my first one after the cooling period, which didn’t satisfy as much as the chilled bars I ate later. The dried bing cherries are what make this snack a delight, and it took almost no time to make.

From “Breakfasts,” I made the Breakfast Hash, with a sweet potato base, and because of the Cook’s Note, I was able to enjoy it with ingredients I had on hand. It was easy to make, tasty, and nutritious with a fried egg.

In “Weekend Meals” I tried the Super-Simple Beef Stew, with instructions for slow cooker or Instant Pot. I don’t have an Instant Pot, and I get quite annoyed with slow cooker recipes that require extra prep, such as browning meat or sautéing vegetables before putting them in the pot, which I think defeats the purpose of a slow cooker. Weaver’s recipe did not disappoint: everything could be thrown into the pot without any precooking. There were two ingredients I’d never used in a beef stew––canned diced tomatoes and cumin. I like cumin, but as it’s quite strong, I’m not always a fan, so I was tempted to leave it out. In the slow cooker, the cumin replaced the flavor usually enhanced by salt (one of the items to be eliminated initially), and the strong flavor mellowed,  enriching the variety of other flavors. 

Throughout the book, in another dollop of generosity to other writers, researchers, and her readers, Weaver has scattered quotations that inspire, part of what makes The Migraine Relief Plan Cookbook more than a cookbook. A quote that resonated and intrigued me was from Kathy O’Shea, author of Much More than a Headache: Understanding Migraine Through Literature: “Literature has always played a significant role in my journey toward self-care. I can leave everything else behind and become completely absorbed.” Weaver’s cookbook and plan toward better health is well worth checking out for anyone wanting to address inflammatory issues through food.