If there is one thing my mom and I share, its our love for cheese. Whenever I reunite with her, one thing is for certain. There will be an assortment of cheese, and maybe a little wine too. I can always count on her usual question, “Megan…”, and I always answer with “yea, mom?” Of course I know what is coming.
A grin slowly spreads across her face. “Should we take out the brie?” So when my mom asked if we could do a post on food. Of course I had no hesitation in saying yes.
Food is happiness. Whether it is sharing a meal with family at home or enjoying a pint of beer and dinner out with friends, it brings us closer to others. For me, food triggers memories. Many foods in my life, foods that I don’t think I could physically live without, spiral me into thought. Every time I eat lobster, I think about sitting around our long dining room table in New Hampshire, all of us, as a family. The red and white checkered, plastic table cloth, the lobster crackers in the shape of claws, the aroma of butter. It is all apart of a memory I would never want to forget. When I eat chili, I think of standing in front of a tall pot on the stove. Delicious. My dad is cooking chili at home and he tells me to watch it. But what am I looking for? I am barely tall enough to see over the stove. French onion soup. I remember the first time I had it at my favorite restaurant. I was told, “you’ve never tasted onion soup like this before”. And they were right.
We all have those foods we love. The foods we could never dream of not eating. Avocado. Anyone who knows me is well too aware of my obsession with avocado. I eat one every single day. And I mean it when I say everyday.
But some things don’t come so easily. Sometimes you have to warm yourself up to food. I hated scallops and raw oysters for the longest time. I would watch everyone else eat them and could not imagine anyone who could subject themselves to those slimy looking things. Scallops and oysters? I don’t think I could ever let them go now. I accompany the raw oysters with my usual glass of white wine. It is the perfect combo. It reminds me of summer by the water.
Now that I am older, I am able to appreciate my palette even more. Everywhere I travel, I expand my horizons. I exceed what I have come to appreciate as far as food goes. But I still enjoy the basic things. The simple things. Now I think about my two homes. Of course, Boston means New England clam chowder and lobster rolls, and the occasional delicious Italian food from the North End. Texas means good old BBQ and pulled pork sandwiches. And the massive steaks that very few could possibly finish. I crave those foods that remind me of home, no matter where I am.
Food. Love. Food gives me comfort. If all else fails, food does not.