Because sometimes food IS love....

I started today with a very very old family recipe. It's an acquired taste. And it's certainly not health food. In fact, I will say it's a recipe that "we" would by most accounts be terrified of. But it reminds me of my childhood. Deep fried rice cakes, smothered with butter and syrup. And I remembered the absolute feeling of being full, and nourished. And knowing it was special food and not something to eat every day. And the smell of the crisping rice rising from the hot oil. And my grandmother lifting them up still slightly sizzling onto the plate.

And today, for the first time ever I also baked bread. Not low fat. Not dense whole wheat. Just plain old gorgeous white bread. And it came out JUST RIGHT. And we all just basked in the deliciousness of the aroma that filled the house as it baked. How incredible it was to be baking one of the simplest, yet most satisfying foods that there is. BREAD. One of the foods that has been basic to humanity since the history of cooking. BREAD. One of the foods that women in particular have known how to make around the world in some form or another for centuries upon centuries.

And my children ate this bread, and felt nourished inside, much as I felt nourished by my grandmothers rice cakes.

When we care for others, we nourish them, we fill them, we take care of them. And food, is one of the very basic ways in which we do this. Denying ourselves of food and the opportunities to be loved THROUGH food... is a very very sad thing indeed.