Food, Glorious Food

There are a lot of people from every era of my life who think of food when they think of me.  And rightly so.  I’ve always & forever used food to convey a sense of  “I see you, I care about you.”  

It started in elementary school, making Krazy Krunch for classroom parties, expanding into nibbles for Glenn Hall, then dinner parties for college friends, full-blown soirees as a young adult, my 30s saw Mom et moi as the "Muffin Ladies" of the college, my 40s ushered in whipping up monthly goodies for "Class of '70" dormies & adopted" classes, and now I bake for my Friday morning stint at the Bryn Athyn College alumni office (dropping by a plate of whatever to the Theological School). 

Ah, but will I ever top my crowning glory?  With the exception of the tea sandwiches & whimsical wedding cake, I baked all of the various nibblings served up to guests at our cathedral wedding reception. Still not sure how I managed it, but I did & had a swell time doing it.  

What brought all these food memories to mind?  I’m fending off a cold, loading up on liquids & sleep to elude it.  And I’m heating up one of Maddie’s cheese rolls, the cheese rolls I made sure I was well-stocked with before she hightailed it off to Singapore for almost a month.

In about 15 minutes, I will settle down with a big glass of fruit juice & tear apart the crisp crust, revealing the soft insides, laden with cheese & Maddie’s special touch.

Nothing brought home to me the power of food than realizing the pure comfort of having something to eat that was made by a friend.  My guess is that’s one of the reasons a bowl of chicken noodle soup served on a bed tray by Mom, crackers to the side of the wide bowl, always made me feel better right off the bat – the hot soup tasted wonderful, but the genuinely healing part was Mom. 

Food has a power to connect like nothing else.  For millennia, people – even enemies – have broken bread together as a way of closing a deal, settling an argument, sealing a truce.  Food has power. 

Right now, food – a piping hot cheese roll & a steaming cup of tea – will help me fend off illness as I wallow in the comfort of the couch, a kitty by my side & thoughts of Maddie all around.     

Overrated

A treasured author mentor shares the deep wisdom, "Being practical & safe & always logical is way overrated."

I agree 100%.  Yes, there are times it's vital to be practical & logical & playing it safe, but my experience is that growth - the great BIG quantum leap sort that takes you wondrous places you never dreamed of - rarely  if ever springs out of such stolid grounding.  Such grounding goes a long way as underpinning of fantastic dreams, is utterly & completely necessary in many cases, but paired with the fantastic, the absurd, the preposterous to reach great heights.

Boys putting in countless hours putting with electronics in their family garage.  The frustrated mom of a celiac child believing it's possible to develop a recipe for a gluten-free cookie that tastes over-the-top fabulous.  The nut convinced a thread-like wire can carry sound or that pictures & print can float through air or the one who prattles on about projectiles soaring outside the earth’s clutches.  Many the skeptics scoff at what they saw as wasted energy & talents which could have been better invested in more practical pursuits.  But oh what can come out of those endeavors! 

My parents were among the most impractical, illogical people I've ever met.  In spite of being among the least financially well off of folks in my home town, they urged their children to invite dorm students down to Sunday dinner.  The Boys Scouts could count on Dad whenever they needed a contribution, even though his own boys were grown & gone from home.  As someone who owned his own fledgling business, Dad often didn’t bring home much of a paycheck, but the church treasurer wrote that if everyone tithed like Dad did, the church would never need to send out a fund-raising letter.

When Dad realized my college was skipping a college luncheon in honor of graduates - just as they had when my sister got the same junior college degree 4 years before – he & Mom put on a special supper at our house, inviting ALL of the graduates from the junior college, the senior college, the theological - and spouses - as well as all the teachers and their spouses.  It wasn't grand, but it WAS.  And they did it all on their own dime, without drawing attention to themselves as great & glorious benefactors.  It wasn't until near the end of the supper (thank goodness for the fair weather, because we never could have fit them all in our house) that the dean realized it was Mom & Dad, not the college, footing the bill.  

Impractical, illogical & (it could be argued) financially fool hardy.  But dozens of students felt honored by their college, dozens of teachers had a swell time, and one dean was stunned by the basic generosity of two parents who wanted to make sure their child had a precious experience.  

It was practical thing to cancel the luncheon, which conflicted with another event happening the same day; it was logical to leave things at regretfully explaining the situation to graduates;  it would have been financially safe for my parents to keep the hundreds of dollars they spent in the bank, to forego the many hours spent making it happen.  Compared to the precious memories & priceless lessons that came out of that unforgettable event?  Overrated!!!