Food has always been something social to me. I’m not a particularly social person– I have a few close friends, a boyfriend, and my family– but there’s something that unites all of these people; food. As soon as I go home to California, my friend and I get together to try to make some new recipe that we found on the internet. Whether it’s brownies from a box or something a little more complicated, we’re always creating some disaster in the kitchen. As for here in Portland– well, it’s almost impossible to walk around the city without buying some food from the food carts or coffee at one of the hundreds of coffee shops downtown.
Meanwhile at home, my mom is always trying out some new cooking venture. Occasionally she’ll mail me something that can survive a night in a box, like her homemade fig newtons or some chocolate chip cookies. One of the most notable highlights of going home for winter break was the food. Most nights my dad would cook something like spaghetti and meatballs and my mom would bake some bread and we would sit around the table or in front of the TV and watch a movie together.
Food is consistent through almost every social interaction in one way or another. It signifies family, friendship, and love in the right circumstances, or it can just be a way to relax and be happy. Either way, it’s more than just a physical need.