Healing Power of Food

Mom “did southern cooking proud” tonight by preparing barbecued baby back ribs, slaw, scalloped potatoes, pinto beans and cornbread. I can make the exact same thing, but it never tastes quite like hers. Maybe that is because she includes a special kind of love that just isn’t listed on the recipe.

The saying “a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” was demonstrated tonight. Tim was in the kitchen pacing and watching for several hours while dinner was cooking. Finally when it was served, he gladly left the Georgia–LSU game in the fourth quarter for something he loved even more than football.

I know that when I’ve been sick, my friends have come over with soup in a crockpot or frozen flat in zip lock bags, ready to be heated up. They have ordered dinner from a local caterer or delivered a covered plate full of comfort food designed to cure me. It is a compassionate way to demonstrate that someone cares.

When I was young my father was a fireman and worked 24 hour shifts. We would take him dinner prepared by my mother of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, homemade rolls and fresh apple pie. Mom would pile his food on a plate and cover it with aluminum foil. My brother and I would argue over who would get to “ride shotgun” because who ever rode in the front passenger seat got to hold the plate of food on their lap and hand it to Dad as he came to the car to see us.

One of Mom’s neighbors was not feeling well so I called and asked if I could bring dinner to her. She said she didn’t feel much like eating and didn’t want to waste it. I told her that sometimes when I’m not feeling well and don’t want to cook for myself that food made by someone else tastes really good. As I was helping Mom put the food on a plate for her, I reached to grab the aluminum foil. As soon as it was placed over the plate of food, the feel and smell took me back to Dad’s fireman’s dinner. It had to be the smell of food made with love.

For today’s gift, I took food to someone who is not feeling well. I hope that the healing power of food, the love that my mother made it with, and knowing that someone is thinking of her will all combine magically to make her feel better in a jiffy.

In Giving,

Robin (with help from my Mom)