Food

I just returned from a week at my parent's house. A week is a longish time. But my heart tells me it just wasn't enough. I've come to terms with that. I don't think any amount of time would be enough. I miss them already.

When I began to unpack I found some goodies that my mother had stashed away in our snack bag. Among other things, she packed some homemade chocolates. Let me say it another way: Homemade. (*pause*) Any food. (*swoon*)

I gobbled several in quick succession as my eyes filled with tears. I'm aware that I was "emotionally" eating but I didn't care. I needed to connect with my family and somehow eating the food from the hands of my mother filled me with the same warmth that I imagine my infant daughter receives while nursing. Comfort food may get a bad rap, but my, how it soothed. 

Lately I've been reflecting on how food connects people. There's a certain intimacy to food. So much so, in fact, that the minister who married me to Dan told us that a married person should not eat alone with a person of the opposite gender-- too intimate, too tempting.

Several weeks ago, my family had the immense pleasure of spending the weekend with our friends Jason and Sarah. I'd like to say that I'm not using their friendship because of their foodie tendencies, but I can't be sure. This couple appears to effortlessly create memorable dishes. I was particularly touched when Sarah confessed that she loves to cook for her husband because it means a lot to him. Her three young sons would agree that momma can make a mean dish, I'm sure. Sarah admitted that she hopes to lure her children back to the nest for Sunday dinners when they become adults and live elsewhere. It wouldn't take much luring, that's for sure. 

In Maryland this week, I was especially impressed how my mother had prepared for our arrival. The fridge was stocked with premade tuna salads, egg salad, rice salad and marinated meat. She labeled them so each person could help themselves when they felt the need. She was probably anticipating needing her arms free for four of her grandchildren who were coming to visit. I stood in awe of how she kept her hospitality to loving people, but didn't abandon home cooking altogether. You're amazing, Mom.

I've got the "I-don't-wanna-be-back-from-vacation" blues, but with the help of Dan, this afternoon I made a grocery list. (We gotta eat.) I opened a favorite Ina Garten cookbook and chose a few recipes for this week. Dan did the grocery shopping for me (swell guy, ain't he?). And while my heart still wishes it could be with every family member, I'll start Monday's dinner with turkey meatloaf that may not wow the crowds but will certainly bring my family to the table. I may have an extra lump in my throat as I remember good home cooking, but hopefully the meal will strengthen the sinews of my own family. One bite at at time.