Have You Eaten?

“Wait. You cook, like, something different every day?” she said from across the table with just a trace of horror in her eyes. “Well, I mean, yeah, kinda, most days I do. Um, I definitely cook dinner Monday-Wednesday and then things start to fall apart and it’s all about leftovers or maybe some take out or whatever and my husband cooks on weekends sometimes…” I stammered.

For some reason her line of questioning made me slightly nervous and maybe even a tad defensive. But I’m not sure why. We haven’t really known each other that long, and I don’t think she got how much I love all things food until that moment. Also, when I asked her how she fed herself, she told me something about making a big old batch of one thing and dividing it into meal prep containers for the week. I’m a little fuzzy on the details because she lost me at eating the same dinner every day and my eye started twitching. Then everything went black. So, obviously, we are in two different camps on this topic.

**Disclaimer: This conversation has been recreated from my questionable memory of the events and thoroughly hyperbolized. She has approved this message, and we are still friends.**

Just as she was surprised to learn that I voluntarily cook most days of the week-not just dinners but also breakfasts and even lunches-I’m always a little taken aback when I remember not everyone rolls that way. For a lot of folks, eating is a means to an end, and feeding themselves is just another thing on the to-do list. I get that. Food is functional. It is transporting energy and nutrients to fuel your body, and keep you alive. Non-foodies can certainly enjoy a good meal (especially if it’s prepared by someone else) but again, they’re eating simply because they’re hungry. And then the meal is over, and they move on. But for some of us, it’s more than that. It is an expression of care to feed yourself and others. It demonstrates concern, tenderness, and loyalty. It is a love language.

You’ve heard of love languages, right? It’s from a book aptly named The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. The basic idea is that everyone has different ways of expressing and receiving love that are especially meaningful to them, which he breaks down into different categories such as words of affirmation, acts of service, etc. If someone’s love language is words of affirmation, then verbally communicating your affection is going to make them feel the most warm and fuzzy. But what if one of your go-to methods of demonstrating love is through food? In my mind, feeding someone is the ultimate act of service. In his book Buttermilk Graffiti, chef Edward Lee said “to care about food is to care about people.” I love this quote. It’s simple, but spot on. It’s how I feel when I cook for my family, invite a friend over for dinner, or just whip out some cheese and crackers to share. In many Asian cultures, a standard greeting might be “Have you eaten?” There seems to be some debate over whether that tradition evolved from showing concern in actual times of famine, or if it is simply a way of saying I love you, but whatever the derivation, that hits home for me way more than someone asking the generic “How you doin?” and hoping for a generic response back.

As I’ve mentioned before, I wasn’t always into cooking. I liked to eat, but couldn’t care less about preparing a meal. But, fortunately I grew up surrounded by people that loved me with food. My mom cooked throughout my childhood, and I felt the love in every bite of scalloped potatoes and ham, the delicious treats in my lunchbox, or whenever I would find my favorite brand of ice cream in the freezer. Grandmothers are famous for showing their devotion to family through food, and my granny was no different. I grew up in an apartment in Manhattan, with a brick wall for a view, so when I visited her out on the Island-where she lived in an actual house with a backyard-she would always cook for me on the grill. We would sit outside and eat steaks or burgers or whatever because she knew that was a special treat for my urban ass. She was also the person who introduced me to the concept of the charcuterie board at a young age. When I would spend New Year's Eve with her she would prepare a little nosh of cheese, salami, and fruit to toast the new year. It wasn’t just a delicious snack, it was a way to connect. And now I see my daughter’s abuela doing the same thing with her. Her home is well stocked with Mia’s favorite snacks and treats when she goes over there, and they make arepas together. Ice cream? Sure. Bacon? Of course!

Every time you show up to someone’s home with a treat for the host: Love. A friend throws a party and there’s a million snacks I can’t eat, but they make sure there’s gluten free treats available: Love. When someone suffers a loss, and the women in my neighborhood line up to make dinners for the family: Love. A dear friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago, and it was scary and hard and I wanted to do something, but I felt helpless. The mom’s club in which we were both members came up with a bunch of ways to show our support, and I was happy to join in. But it was when she told me the troubles she was having with food that I found my niche. Not only did she sometimes lack the energy to prepare food due to undergoing grueling treatments, but she was nauseated a lot of the time, and the drugs caused her to have a metallic taste in her mouth, which affected the flavor of almost everything she ate. Club members donated funds, and we set up a grocery budget. The two of us discussed her meal plans every week and came up with some foods that were more palatable than others, and easy to prepare. I worked at Trader Joe’s at the time, so I would shop her list after my shift and drop the groceries off on my way home. I’m not telling you this to toot my own horn. It’s just one of the best examples I can think of to drive home my point. Oh, and when she was done with treatment, and given the all-clear from her oncologist? We went out to lunch to celebrate. We mentioned the special reason for the meal to our server as we were ordering. A few moments later, the manager stopped by to let us know that the entire meal was on them, and they were throwing in dessert. We’re talking about total strangers here. LOVE.

I’ve been passionate about community service since college, and feel especially connected to the project when it involves food. Whether it’s sorting canned goods at a food bank, helping prepare meals for the sick, or making sandwiches for a local charity with my neighbors, these acts fill me up in a way that nothing else does. My fondest memory was when my friends and fellow nutrition majors put together a dinner for the families that were staying at our local Ronald McDonald House. We were told that in our area of Southern California, there was an especially large population of Native Hawaiians that brought their kids to our local children’s hospital for treatment. So we did what we could to honor their culture through food. I’m sure it was far from authentic, but hey, our macaroni salad was pretty good, and our diners seemed to appreciate the effort. It was a huge undertaking, but we were up for the challenge. It was a lot of work and a lot of fun. And the perfect project for a group of ladies that all share a common love language.

Know that if I cook you dinner, pack you a lunch, or just text you a picture of a new snack or salad dressing you should try, this is my little way of saying I’m thinking of you and I love you. My enthusiasm for food knows no bounds, and I always want to share the news when a new recipe has worked out really well, or a dish at a restaurant is super delicious. This is why my husband and daughter pause before reaching for food because they know mama probably has to take a picture before they can touch anything. This is also why I run a facebook group for food pic takers. Side note: Just for fun, I typed in “tacos” in my pictures app to see what would happen. 211 photos. Anyone that’s known me for any length of time would probably be surprised the number is so low. So if you could just smile and nod and humor me, that would be great. I try to remember that not everyone is fluent in this language, so if I see your eyes glazing over, I’ll attempt to reign it in. But no promises. Actually, you know what? Never mind. At least let me make you a sandwich.