A friend of mine recently had quite a shock. She went away on vacation and came home to her house a bit emptier since her fiancé had moved all his crap out. The wedding is off, for now, and I have no opinion, but the end of a relationship is a hard thing to handle. I shared with her my current breakup, we hugged and I offered to make dinner with wine and everything.
It’s what I do. This is how I try to help others, through my love, my love of cooking and feeding others. It has been how I paid my debts, along with massage, to my helpful neighbors and friends and it is a way I show comfort. To some food maniacs, this is considered a disease, but they have their own issues, like backward religious freaks who only believe in one thought.
I didn’t learn this at home, but in my later years. Comfort foods to me as a child and teen was to shove food into my face and make myself sick to feel the distress manifested in a physical form. Add alcohol as soon as I was old enough to buy it and there was a problem. When Guy got sick, Steve and Shawn showed me that food for comfort wasn’t something you just did to fill you, but through the process and the delight of dishes like Escargot and Gorgonzola Pasta, Manicotti, and Grilled Meats was something to honor life, not cover up pain.
When Steve passed, Patrick set about comforting Guy by cooking a big Italian meal that would have made Steve happy and satiated. It was like a scene from The Godfather where the kitchen is filled to help the survivors. The day after Jason died, Guy was there to help me with a single martini and pate with crackers. Sounds odd, but was what comforted me.
In this case, a breakup isn’t death, but sometimes it can feel like it. So I do what I do best, I will cook for her and let her know that she is loved and cared for. Now just what to cook???