Cooking. Creating consumable food or beverage(s) for others is an act of love. This thought didn’t occur to me until recent years. My husband manifests his love primarily by making delectably tasty goods on (or in) a dish. One Sunday night, I came home to a sampler platter of pork tenderloins cooked six different ways — the tenderloins, mind you, had been cut into small medalions. It was still too much to eat in one sitting, but everything was so delicious. Too, each version of pork loin was an adventure of flavor. Jack really communicates with food. He likes to create rich tasty things for the people in his life.
Sally posted a while back about how she and her husband, Dan, share the kitchen chores — when one cooks, the other cleans. In that post (to which I cannot link until an insurance matter from Dan’s accident is cleared — grrr), Sally put her finger on it: Cooking is an act of love. While you tend to details of putting a meal together, you think of that person or people. Sometimes life becomes cluttered with too many stimuli, and our minds race while we go through motions. Sometimes we leave out ingredients or cook a dish for too long, but even distracted cooking is a statement: I care enough about you to make sure you have a meal to eat.
Sharing. When a person has a death in the family, or if a major accident has a loved one debilitated, friends and family pitch in by providing food for the aggrieved family. This is one way that people reach out in love. Sometimes there are no words to assuage the pain of loss or injury, but food is a constant. It is a common thread for all people. Food can bring communities together and speak volumes when words cannot.
On a funny note, when I was in college, the popular way for guys to propose to their girls was to cook a fancy meal on their own and have an evening of wooing before popping the magic question.
Eating. It takes time to sit down and enjoy a meal with others. Especially if you’re with someone you care about. You take a bite, you commune, you enjoy the presence of dinner companions. Food can be a form of adventure. My husband and I were thrilled by several culinary experiences during our visit to Las Vegas in August. We’re foodies, so each restaurant we visited was subjected to our unspoken and unofficial checklists. Food quality? Presentation? Balance of flavor, too rich or bland? Customer service? Atmosphere/Entertainment? There are many things that occupy our attention when Jack and I sit down together for many a meal. Not that we scrutinize when we’re visiting friends or family! And not every meal at home for us is gourmet; we’ve had a few mac-n-cheese or PBJ nights. The thing is, when you share a meal with someone, it’s a moment of companionship. A binding together of all persons involved. A social intimacy that cannot be avoided.
In a rushed society, eating on-the-go is ever more popular. Not only is eating fast food (especially in the car!) unhealthy physically, it robs us of time. On our own, a meal on-the-go prevents the slow-paced eating that keeps us from over-eating. There is no down time to catch up with the momentum of our thoughts. With others, not only are on-the-go meals consumed too quickly, but the companionability is shattered. Sharing a rushed meal has all the intimacy of passing someone in a hallway. Slow down. Enjoy yourself and the ones you’re with.
