It's Memorial Day. I've visited Grandfather's grave. I've had some wine with my mother, and with my mother-in-law. She made a chocolate chip cheesecake to die for (she is the cheesecake queen). I've had, well, several pieces. It's one thing she and I have in common--that love of cheesecakes in all their variety. It's a point of connection between two apparent strangers. Cheesecake isn't just cheesecake--it has a story.
Food, at its most fundamental, is the stuff that builds our bodies. Too much food builds too much body. But when you have access to more than enough food (and everyone reading this has access to more than enough food), food goes beyond nourishment--it develops stories.
Some stories are joyful--Grandma's biscuits speak of love and warm winter mornings. Most food stories, however, are ambiguous--even sad. Chunky Monkey has become synonymous with a broken heart. Tequila tells the story of bad judgment and life-changing consequences. Ramen noodles with spaghetti sauce mean dinner in the dorm room instead of a date. Leftover chunks of pancakes sticky with syrup tell of children with dirty faces and uncombed hair rushing for the schoolbus (and a mother who's tired before the day has even begun). Every food has its story--and most stories seem to have their food.
Problem is, food doesn't replace lost girlfriends, friends who've abandoned you, children who ignore you, spouses who bore you or loved ones who have died. The stories aren't from or about food--the stories are in our own hearts and minds.
If you have a story to tell, tell it (that's what friends, family, ministers and therapists are for). If you need physical nourishment, eat.
How do you know the difference? If the cheesecake brings you pure pleasure, then savor each bite. If, however, you are telling yourself the story of how your waistline grows and your self-esteem shrinks even as you chew, put the fork down and go find a quiet place to take deep breaths.
What are your food stories? Please take a moment to hit "comments" below and sign in with your name or anonymously if you like. Because stories can only change, teach and heal if we share them.
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13 years ago
5 comments:
Food for me and family is like the glue that holds us together. When we are happy- we eat. When we are sad- we eat. When we are bored- we eat. Anytime we get together- we eat. The cooks in my family are wonderful, and since I married, I too have become a wonderful cook. I love to cook wonderful food, that others enjoy.
Interesting how certain smells of food evoke great memories - not so much the taste - but when I smell goetta frying - it's my favorite aunt long gone who fried it with the best of them and always had a ciggy dangling - and she made my sister and I the greatest breakfasts using her homemade goetta.
Also when I watch movies and the very beginning where they show what movie company made it - I swear I smell popcorn from the Kentuckian Theatre - another long gone memory where many happy childhood hours were spent.
I cannot think of any "bad memory" smells - just the good ones along the way!
I agree with anonymous--food is very important to our extended family, and I spent the weekend with them, consuming way too many chocolate chip cookies and Paula Deen candy brownies!! But since I have changed my eating in the past 5 years, I am trying to change how my family (children & grandchildren) perceive family gatherings and food. Will I be successful? Probably not entirely; but I am trying!!!!
My weakness would be sweets, and Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream is something i love. Luckily it is made in Texas and so far hasn't found it's way to this area, but I hear it is as close as Cynthiana, and I know that is one place I had better stay away from. Eating good food turns out to be how we celebrate a special occasion usually, but sharing that dessert turns out to be the solution. A splurge is great, but limiting is the key to success.
It's so powerful, isn't it? Happy memories, happy smells . . . and yet it's the family that's the key. Would you still gather if there was no "glue?" Would they all look at you strangely if you suggested a walk after the meal? Even though I try not to use food as a reward with my kids, I still find myself pulling through the DQ drive-thru if they've been particularly good.
Keeping conscious is the tough part, isn't it?
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