We are all on a search for the next great meal. We watch food network, we share ideas and recipes with each other. We surf the net and search for the perfect meal. The perfect placement to “eat with our eyes”, the perfect garnish. In our family, we are looking for the highest quality of food, packed with the most nutrition, vegetarian, dairy free, that looks and tastes great. It is a mission. I mean it. I feel like we should have some sort of ugly gray jumpsuit to wear and a dull brown clip board with an attached string. We are gathering information. We are determined.
People talk about comfort food all the time. …oh you must try this mac and cheese, reminds me of my childhood, well with the exception of the lobster pieces! Oh my goodness, you must try this pot roast………..tastes like mom’s (not my mom, cooking was not her passion), hey, have you tried this chicken soup with 2 cups of cheese, pure comfort…………um no, we don’t eat meat or dairy. Thanks anyway.
I was not able to make dinner last night. So Mr. Right was up. I was on the sofa. He was making quite a bit of noise I must say. I heard lots of pots and pans. I heard the juicer. I saw him writing down a list (come to find out he made V-14 juice. He made our juice with 14 mostly vegetables and a couple of fruits.) I started to smell something good. It made me want to go look, I hesitated when I saw the small pile up of pans so far. In our home, we usually eat around 5:45 pm on a week night. Much to the dismay of several experts on dog ownership, we feed our dog before we eat. She eats around 5:30pm.
The dog was laying near the kitchen, one eye open. watching. waiting. It was around 6:30 pm and man nor beast had eaten anything yet.
Okay, dinner was served. Please come to the table. It was set very nicely. Placemats and napkins and all the flat ware properly aligned. The juice was in the goblet and then the plate was set before me. I made a visible sigh of comfort. There it was in all it’s glory. Three things on a white plate. One glorious scoop of mashed potatoes. One puddle of gravy in the little hole in the middle. One gorgeous pile of fresh green beans. One piece of lightly browned “chiken”.
There is something oddly comforting about being served a meal made with pure love. Mr. Right was trying to make a good meal that would make me happy. He hit the nail on the head. Who among us doesn’t love mashed potatoes? The comfort came in a strange way. It felt wonderful and familiar, having been brought up in the 70’s. Three things on a plate. The pile of pots, pans, hot pads, bowls, whisks, wooden spoons, cutting boards, juicer parts………all were a bit much, yet somehow brought me comfort. He served me one perfectly formed mini scoop of lemon sorbet in a crystal dessert goblet. I ate it slowly while he did the dishes and cleaned up.
It was around 10:45 pm when I was headed to bed. I heard him vacuuming. He was still doing his clean up. He knew that when I got up this morning, if everything was neat and tidy and clean and vacuumed………..it would bring me comfort.
Thank you Mr. Right for loving me the way you do. I feel bathed in Grace and comfort every single moment of my life.
Have I mentioned lately just how lucky I am?