The One About Food

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I mentioned earlier that my mother was the quintessential 1950s housewife. That means, among other things, that she was a great cook. We rarely ate out: delicious home-cooked meals were the daily norm in our home. What’s more, she seemed to derive genuine pleasure from the process of deciding on meals, shopping for ingredients, preparing, serving, even the clean-up.

Bless my heart . . . I am not my mama.

Not that I’m a terrible cook. Not that I hate cooking necessarily. But I cannot say it is a source of pleasure in my life.

Honestly, I think the worst part is figuring out what to make. Back when the girls were young and I was trying to be Perfect Wife and Perfect Mom, I would plan out my weekly meals before going to the grocery store. And it was so hard. Why? I can’t tell you. The pressure, maybe. I wanted us to eat healthy – that’s what Perfect Wife/Mom does for her family, right? But I also wanted them to LIKE the food I made. That’s part of Perfection as well. I also felt some pressure to be trying new things . . . to be unique and inventive in the kitchen . . . why? Again, I cannot tell you why. Except that my amazing mom set the standard.

One of the pleasant surprises of the last couple years has been the weights I’ve felt lifting from my shoulders . . . quite often weights that I didn’t even know were there. The weight of Perfect Cook is one that I have waved goodbye to with a joyous and relieved heart. The failure I felt in that role was such a waste of energy and emotion. Kick that burden to the curb. I am free.

My girls are grown now and responsible for their own healthy eating. (God be praised.)

Buying from restaurants in a pandemic supports the struggling local economy. (Hallelujah!)

Trying to maintain a kitchen stocked with the necessary basic ingredients for general meal preparation leads to a ton of waste when you are mainly preparing meals for one. (PREACH to me, sister.)

I have found better alternatives to fit my personality and lifestyle. I eat out . . . or, these days, I order food in. And the typical entrĂ©e from a typical restaurant seems to last me for two or three meals, so it’s quite economical, too.

Also, thanks to my college friend Ona, I’ve discovered a meal delivery service where I can have ingredients delivered to the house (just enough for the number of servings indicated, meaning NO WASTE) along with recipes and instructions for dishes I would never have tried to cook before. Healthy meals. Tasty meals. Different meals. Meals that, again, stretch out for two or three days for me. WIN.

And y’all, God has been gracious enough to bring people into my life who FEED ME. Stacie, from the theater, is one of those precious humans whose love language is food. It might even be her worship language. She feeds people – it’s simply who she is. When she brings rehearsal lunch for all day rehearsals, she packages up the leftovers (which are usually plentiful) and sends them home with me. At least twice during my lowest times in the last couple years, she has called out of the blue and said, “I was making X for dinner and made extra for you. When can I bring it by?” I have a container of her taco meat in the fridge right now that I pulled out of the freezer the other day. Lord bless her. She’s a gift from heaven to my soul.

A work colleague texted me the week we moved and said, “What sounds good for dinner tonight? I’m sending Door Dash to your new place.” My students give me restaurant cards at Christmas after the exhaustion of finals and the end of a semester. A friend from Sunday School brought a huge meal over toward the end of the summer that lasted for days through the crazy beginning of this school year.  God loves me through friends giving me food. Is that weird to say? I hope not. I cherish these gifts. I feel their love AND His love.

I’ve come to peace with letting go of this Perfect Cook mantle that I never wore well. I think even my mother would tell me I’m good – I don’t have to try to be her anymore. I live in a different world than she did, and I’m living a different life than she lived. Wish I could treat her to a Salata wrap to celebrate.

Comments

  1. Angie ThierFebruary 5, 2021 at 7:43 PM

    Yet another way I feel like we have so much in common. I'm the same way - I WISH I could find the delight in cooking like my mom and many friends do. And I've felt so encouraged by all the meals that have been given to me lately as we're going through Meesh's cancer. Part of me feels guilty because I'm terrible about cooking meals for others. But like you, I'm learning to embrace that it just isn't in the cards. And as an outside perspective - can I just say your time has been so well invested in other areas? You're a phenomenal teacher, and God has given you many gifts that you're employing just as well! I'm glad you're feeling the relief of letting those high expectations go. :) ~ Angie

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