With the Dow in a nosedive, Washington in a daze, and the Presidential election pushing the nasty index to new heights, my mind has turned toward food. Yes, food.
You see, while my grandmothers were dramatically different — one a first-generation Italian immigrant and the other an all-American Waspy descendant of a Civil War vet—they agreed on one thing: When things get tough, sit down over a good home-cooked meal and thank the Lord for your blessings. My grandmothers would love the core values of our new food service provider, Bon Appetit. Buy fresh food, locally grown whenever possible. Cook from scratch. Treat food as an invitation to sit down together and celebrate community.
Gram (Bessie Louis, my mother’s mom) loved nothing more than to pick ripe apples from the two trees in her back yard so that she could make fresh apple sauce, or a couple of apple pies. One was never enough. Bessie was a meat-and-potatoes person, with big portions, plenty of fresh vegetables. And her homemade gravy. I never even saw a canned soup in her kitchen. Not once in her 98-plus years.
Carolina (my father’s mother) was another matter. She would bring a chicken up from the chicken coop in her back yard, kill it, pluck it and roast it with onions and garlic (something that was permanently absent from Bessie’s kitchen). It would provide soup, and an important ingredient to add to her pasta sauce. We even would have fresh fig from the fig tree she treated with great tenderness in her yard.
I am writing this blog as Parents Weekend and Homecoming get under way. I was delighted to see how many students brought their parents to lunch at Rastall — sharing the home cooking that is featured every day. I wonder if they told Mom and Dad that some of the veggies come fresh from the CC Garden in the back yard of Stewart House. Each time I wander down to see what our students working with Professor Miro Kummel have achieved in that magnificent garden, I think of how excited Gram and Carolina would be to have a back yard like that.
We are richly blessed at CC because of the vision and generosity of many who came before us. For the Class of ’58 who are celebrating their 50th reunion, there are many reminiscences, not the least about the “mystery meat” that used to be served in Bemis Hall. I hope that our students today have a different relationship with their food on campus — and find the care with which it is prepared a reminder of home and of the many blessings we share.
5 Comments
Food is such a huge part of our daily lives that it’s astonishing how few people have had the opportunity (or the desire) for a good home-cooked meal like you described above. Reliance on processed food and the network of food suppliers has lessened us, in a way. There’s nothing like going into your own backyard and using what you’ve grown there yourself to create a meal for your loved ones. While the necessities of modern suburban living often stop people who would otherwise be interested in going this route, communal gardens that are integrated into suburban subdivisions can give us a taste of what food was like not so long ago.
I suppose my comfort food has always been peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. What is it about those sandwiches? They seem to be on lots of people’s comfort food lists.
President Celeste invokes great memories. My Grandma Halloran, born in County Tipperary in 1864, never liked to cook. Thanksgiving was resplendent with food prepared by her ten children. One year they had trouble finding the dishes. Grandma didn’t particularly like to do dishes, so she had put them in the ice box, as a quick way to tidy up the kitchen. Her gift was to be a storyteller, and in a home filled with laughter, her life itself was a story.
In the little village of Drangan,
Ireland, where she was born, there is a niche sealed in glass near the alter of the village church. In it are the famine chalices, and the vials of oil used to give the last rites to those stricken during the Irish famine. They were the friends and neighbors of my great grandparents, and Grandma would remind us how food carried with it the gift of life. Nearing eighty years of age, she kept a large Victory Garden all through World War II. How amazed she would be were she now to stand by the garden at Stewart House, and gaze at the stunning beauty of the Rockies. In her Irish brogue she’d say, “It’s like heaven here.”
In many ways, it is.
Even though my wife and I enjoy going out for special dinners, there’s definitely no replacement for her home-cooking!
Thanks for your post…
Food comfort food, despite of the plunging stock index and gloomy economy, life continues and I’m grateful for the food our family can have everyday. Home and food are the nicest things you can have in this planet.