Food for Family

I recently found myself visiting family unexpectedly, and was reminded by what a central role food plays in my family - it is the source of entertainment, comfort, and togetherness; quite literally, it is the lifeblood that unites us.

Family holiday gatherings are centered around food; the traditions of the old country, the old family favorites, the Christmas/Easter pastimes and the same recipes passed down from generation to generation ... they all spring from the original source - Grandma.

So it's only natural that in the bad times, along with the good, my grandma springs to action and brings out the rolling pin to beat us (figuratively) back to health. Upon tragedy she went into crisis mode and first made her infamous chicken and dumpling soup, the ultimate comfort food derived from an Eastern European classic not unlike matzo ball soup, warming us to the core with the timeless taste of ... home. And her. To me that soup is the essence of Grandma, it spells love in every broth, and along with her incredible homemade peanut butter fudge, I am instantly transported back to childhood.

Next she filled her house with enough food to feed an army, to ensure we were all properly fed, and while I must admit that my family is in fact rather large, we still had more than enough to suffice. The days went as such: wake up to breakfast with one aunt and family, then brunch at Grandma's, where she happened to have an entire ham, and then proceeded to go from there to my other aunt's house for lunch to dinner - an ongoing buffet of meats and cheeses, pasta, fruit, cookies, galore; somehow platters of food seemed to cover every surface - naturally Grandma called my aunt before we left for her place to tell her, "don't worry, I have a turkey." Just in case, of course. I wondered where she'd been hiding it.

Just as Christmas cookies had always meant "celebrate!", this food took on a different meaning - it meant "I love you" and "don't worry" and even "everything will be okay." Through the simple act of feeding us all, make sure our bellies were full, Grandma showed us her unwavering love. She wasn't going to let us feel that empty pit of loss in our stomachs, even if it meant she had to fill it with chicken. In this way, she was not only Grandma to us all, she was Mom again to her fully-grown children, mother bird welcoming them back into the nest. The truth is, she has built this family, created the intricate web that just keeps growing. Having birthed many cooks now spanning the country, we've all tried to replicate her classic family recipes. I remember so clearly the day my Grandma taught me how to make her peanut butter fudge, in my noble but vain attempt to go on to make it without her whenever I pleased, but of course it never tasted as good as when she made it. Family cooking is an act of passing along traditions; of teaching the young the techniques they will go on to use for the rest of their lives; of providing each other with comfort, security, and most of all, love.