The Memory of Food

The past few days have been filled with a lot of cooking (and subsequent cleaning) in my kitchen.  Tonight will probably be the last time we have dinner guests in this house.  I've enjoyed being able to have company, be it family or friends.  Hopefully, we will make new friends where we are going, and be able to share a meal.  We will definitely have family visit there, although probably not as much as we'd like. 

This past week we celebrated Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.  While my husband couldn't join us for the holiday, as he was in a different part of the country, I still made sure my daughter and I enjoyed the holiday.  That included a hearty meal featuring brisket as the main course.  Then last night, my parents joined us (and my husband, too), for dinner of chicken soup, turkey breast, a quasi-tzimmes of sweetened and mashed sweet potatoes and carrots, and salad, followed up with chocolate cake and watermelon.  Tonight we are having good friends over for dinner.  The menu, although not for holiday, will feature roasted chicken and potato kugel. 

Somehow, it always comes down to the food.  I think this is true for many cultures.  When I was much younger, I didn't cook much or well.  When I was about thirteen or fourteen I told my grandmother I wanted to have a "house-husband" to take care of the home and cooking, since I would rather be doing something intellectual.  I didn't want to become a "domestic engineer".  She always liked to remind me of this, especially after the Babe came along and I began to cook and bake.  I know she was proud of my academic accomplishments, but I also know she was just as proud of my domestic ones.  For her, family always came first.  She was a great cook, and there are certain foods or smells that remind me of her, like a roasting chicken or chocolate cake.  So food does more then nourish.  It brings people together, as well as provides sensory memories that live on longer than we do.  And on that note, its time to go bake a cake for later.