I was reading a friend's hilarious blog the other day (http://rachelsaysso.blogspot.com/) and the mention of pudding came up. I find great comfort in pudding. I thought about it and even when you take it off the spoon, your lips form the word, "mmmmmm"...am I right?
So, what is it about pudding? Is it the creamy texture? The warmth? It's even good cold. Is it because we ate it as children? I remember my mother standing there and stirring and stirring and stirring (we're a little spoiled now, I suppose, what with the instant varieties and all).
I don't find that same comfort with bread pudding-just the Cosby-kind of pudding. All creamy.
There are other comfort foods as well. Mashed potatoes, cream-of-wheat, dumplings, my mom's meatloaf, my sister's gravy, all of these foods just make me feel like the world is a good place and all is right within it.
There are people much wiser than I (Dr. Andrew Weil is one *of billions*) who maintain that the energy and emotions that we experience while preparing our food is somehow stored and transferred into those who eat it. So in other words, if you're cooking with love, those who eat your food are going to feel loved in addition to nourished. I believe this. I truly believe this. I think that's why my kids like my cooking. I am NOT a great cook by anyone's imagination. I never have been. But I have always enjoyed the heck out of cooking for my kids because I adored watching them sitting around and eating. I loved it as they grew older and brought their friends over. Thanksgiving was celestial to me. Everyone was eating. The preparation began days before. Even the menu was a thing of joy to me. Putting that food together was a labor of love and I think that's what people were enjoying-not the actual food.
I think that's why the missionaries like to eat over here. It's not so much what they're eating, it's because I thoroughly enjoy feeding them. I put my soul into it because I love them so much and I enjoy having them in my home. I think that's why they like it and typically don't leave until Peter has to shoosh them out the door to get home in time for curfew.