For generations, families have passed down unusual home remedies, and one of the most enduring is the old trick of sticking whole cloves into a peeled onion and leaving it out overnight to “fight a cold.” It sounds strange, smells potent, and definitely sparks debate. But for many households, this wasn’t just a quirky tradition—it was a comforting ritual whenever someone came down with sniffles. Today, it sits somewhere between folklore and kitchen chemistry, where tradition meets a little science and a lot of human hope.
The method is simple: peel a white or yellow onion, stud it with several whole cloves, place it on a plate, and leave it near the sick person’s bed. By morning, the room smells sharp and spicy, and some people insist the air feels lighter and easier to breathe. The idea behind it is that onions release sulfur-rich compounds, while cloves emit eugenol and other antiseptic oils. Together, they supposedly “clean” the air and ease congestion.
For decades, people have claimed this onion-and-clove setup can absorb germs, draw illness out of the body, loosen mucus, and help with sleep during a cold. But to understand what’s really happening, it helps to separate fact from myth.
Onions do contain antimicrobial compounds. They’re rich in sulfur and antioxidants like quercetin, which in laboratory tests can slow the growth of bacteria such as E. coli and Staph. Historically, onions were hung in sickrooms as early as the 1500s, and even during the 1918 flu pandemic people believed they could “pull” sickness from the air. They were wrong about how illness spreads, but not entirely wrong that onions release strong compounds that can irritate and stimulate the airways in ways that feel helpful.
Cloves have their own medicinal reputation. Their key compound, eugenol, has long been used in dentistry because it’s both antiseptic and slightly numbing. It can fight bacteria, fungi, and even some viruses in controlled conditions. Even whole cloves slowly release aromatic oils that can help clear the nose a bit.
The problem lies in the old belief that onions “absorb” germs. They don’t. No vegetable pulls viruses out of the air or your body. Germs don’t leap onto an onion like magnets. At best, the onion releases moisture and strong-smelling compounds that may soothe irritated sinuses. At worst, if left out too long, it can grow bacteria on its surface. So while the onion-and-cloves mixture may change how the air smells or feels, it isn’t pulling illness out of the room.
Still, the experience can provide real comfort. Strong aromas can help open the nasal passages, similar to how menthol works. The moisture from the onion can make dry air feel more breathable. The scent combination masks the stale, stuffy smell of a sickroom, making the environment feel fresher. And never underestimate the emotional comfort of a ritual passed down through generations. Feeling cared for truly helps the body relax—and rest is key to recovery.
However, there are important limits. This remedy will not cure a cold, treat the flu, replace medical care, or remove viruses from the body. It won’t “pull out toxins,” another common myth. And you should never eat the onion afterward—it has been collecting dust and bacteria from the air for hours.
If you want to try it safely, keep it simple: use a fresh onion and whole cloves, place it on a clean dish in the bedroom, and throw it away after 24 hours. Treat it like a form of aromatherapy, not a medical treatment.
If you want something that actually helps relieve congestion in a more meaningful way, steam is your best bet. Simmer onions, garlic, cloves, or ginger in water, then breathe in the warm vapor for a few minutes. Steam inhalation can reduce nasal swelling and loosen mucus, offering real relief even if it doesn’t cure the illness itself. Many cultures use some variation of this method, and unlike a static onion on your nightstand, this one has clearer physiological benefits.
The onion-and-cloves trick survives for one reason: people trust the remedies their families passed down. These traditions comfort us when we feel helpless. They remind us of childhood, of being cared for, of doing something—anything—to help someone we love feel better. A remedy doesn’t need scientific perfection to hold emotional value; it just needs to be harmless and comforting.
And that’s exactly what this is. Not magic, not nonsense—just an old, gentle ritual with a hint of science and a whole lot of nostalgia. Use it if it brings comfort, just pair it with real medical care. Sometimes the best healing comes from blending old traditions with modern knowledge—a little aroma from the past, a little medicine from the present, and plenty of rest in between.