Comfort Food is Comforting

Food is such a central part of our lives as humans. It’s the basis of every culture, the formation of so many traditions and customs. These meals and dishes become such a staple of life that we probably don’t even take the time to honor their history or value within a society. Now, there are classic foods like fresh pasta or the baguette or shawarma that are foundational in a society’s culture but what about the comfort food?

Food is Memory

Take tuna noodle casserole, for example. This was big in the Midwest when I was growing up (or maybe it’s a Jewish thing, I don’t know which is which when it comes to my childhood foods.) It’s literally canned tuna fish salad plus egg noodles. Some people put vegetables in it (no thanks), some prepare it cold, others prepare it hot. If you ask me what my favorite foods are, this will never be on the list. I don’t think it even ranks in the top 200 things I love to eat. But if you placed a giant plate of the stuff in front of me, I’d shovel it in happily without thinking twice because it’s not about the food but the memories that come with it. 

I’m reminded of the days when my mom made me dinner and we sat together at the table with the dogs under our feet. I can see the kitchen of the house I grew up in with our beautiful granite countertops and big silver fridge, with the glass doors facing the back patio to my left. This particular food doesn’t bring me feelings of taste satisfaction but it makes my heart swell. 

So often we think of “comfort food” as a category of the food itself- dishes that have been named as comforting because they resemble society’s image of a warm home. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, chicken soup, etc. Those things do happen to be comforting to me so I guess that is part of my definition of comfort food. Part of this is due to the geographical region in which I grew up, and the people that were a part of my life as a kid.

Food is Weird

There’s another category of comfort food- the weird things we ate when we were younger or that we look to during hard times, or just stuff we’ve always loved even though it doesn’t make sense.

When my cousin was little, she dipped all her food in ketchup. All of it. Everything she ate went into ketchup and to this day, she still loves ketchup. It’s become a source of joy and happiness for her; a love that is entrenched in her soul. She seeks random vessels that can serve as a vehicle to the condiment, not because she likes that actual item but because she knows she can’t just eat the barbecue sauce with a spoon. 

On the days where you feel sad or sick, what do you crave? I know for me, when I need to feel better, I’m going for the matzo ball soup or a huge pot of mac and cheese. It’s like a reflex. I don’t think “oh, when I was little, my mom made me homemade mac and cheese and that’s why I want to eat it right now.” I That connection is so deeply rooted in my muscle memory, it has become an automatic reaction. This section of food serves as an edible hug, something that brings us warmth and comfort because of the memories, not because it is inherently good. 

Food is Important

Food doesn’t need to have a validation or a reason. Our bodies tell us what we want, and sure, sometimes that little voice can get a bit out of control, but for the most part, it knows. On bad days, my soul relaxes when I have a big bowl of pasta with butter and parmesan cheese. On those warm summer days, the giant twisting cone of soft serve with rainbow sprinkles that I crave from the moment I wake up brings me insurmountable joy. Is there rhyme or reason to this? 

Not necessarily. These are things that comfort me, whatever that even means on any given day. It’s important to pay attention to these cravings; they’re telling you something. Let the simple act of eating something delicious or weird bring you comfort and peace and joy. This world is full of tough stuff, it’s okay to let something be easy.