What Comforts Us
comfort: (1) consolation in time of trouble or worry (2) a feeling of relief or encouragement
comfort food: food that provides a nostalgic or sentimental value to someone, and may be characterized by its high caloric nature, high carbohydrate level, or simple preparation. The nostalgia may be specific to an individual, or it may apply to a specific culture.
When the Oxford English Dictionary added a definition for “comfort food” in 1997, it traced the term’s etymology back to a 1977 Washington Post magazine article about Southern cooking: “Along with grits, one of the comfort foods of the South is black-eyed peas.” The Oxford English Dictionary, though, was wrong. The phrase “comfort food” has been around at least as early as 1966, when the Palm Beach Post used it in a story on obesity: “Adults, when under severe emotional stress, turn to what could be called ‘comfort food’—food associated with the security of childhood, like mother’s poached egg or famous chicken soup…:”
While the psychology associated with the concept of being comforted by food has both negative and positive implications, I am most interested in how the nostalgia of that loaf of bread, perfect roast chicken or hot bowl of soup on Sunday afternoon, creates in us a palpable feeling of safety, calm or inner peace.
It is also important to acknowledge that food is a fundamental human need for survival and for many, the idea of categorizing food as I am doing here would be a luxury. When fortunate enough to have choices around what we eat, we know what foods soothe us or make us feel cared for. We know it without really thinking about why. Something from our childhood, a specific smell memory, a place, a person, an ingredient. Any one or combination of these can take us to a place of feeling at ease and assured. The common ingredient in all comfort food is that it is intensely personal, something that is usually enjoyed at home and is often nostalgic. The French food writer MFK Fischer, when writing about her favorite comfort food of milk toast, said “it seems to soothe nerves and muscles and mind all together.” Before eating, she adds, “walk gently to wherever you have decided to feel right in your skin.”
How we choose to create a little happy or feel right in our skin with what we cook for ourselves is perhaps how most of us think about comfort food. I suggest that this same sense of well being can be achieved in other ways.
My daughter Madeleine, for example, who has recently made the big move to Brooklyn, NY, derives a great sense of comfort simply from mapping out how she will stock her section of a large shared kitchen with all of her favorite staple foods. This simple but very intentional act, cloaks her in feelings of safety, calm and possibility. As an aside, in talking about this with her, I expounded on the virtues of frozen veggies over canned. But that is for another time.
For me, preparing a meal for my family or friends can provide the highest level of comfort, well being and nostalgia. Growing up, my father enjoyed being in the kitchen-creating, sharing. There is no doubt that this is a gift he has given to me. The intentions we have around the meal we prepare for someone should be meaningful. That preparation, as a vehicle for providing comfort and love, is something that brings me the purest level of happiness.
Anyone’s ability to bring joy by way of what is put on the plate for others is a marvelous gift, the impact of which should not be underestimated.
If we are fortunate enough to choose our comfort and to comfort others with the food and meals we prepare, we are very lucky indeed.
Bon Appetit!