Day 9: Joy of Cooking

I would argue with Mr. Gary Chapman that food is the sixth love language.

Or at least the act of cooking for someone.  One could debate that it falls under "Acts of Service" but I think a made from scratch meal says a bigger love you than folding socks or taking out the trash.

I've always enjoyed being in the kitchen preparing a special meal for those I love.  It brings me joy to see people eating a favorite treat or dinner.  And I love nothing more than to make a huge meal for the family to share together.  The dishes afterward...not so much.

Big meals are something I've missed the past year or so.  With changes in our family and a teen who works nights, Sunday suppers are sometimes the only chance during the week I get the opportunity to cook for us.  And I've had to relearn how to plan weeknight meals, since it is just usually Tim and me.

It's taken me back to our early married days, although I'm a little more seasoned in the kitchen this time around.

I remember those early days of pulling out cookbooks and learning to create meals I'd hoped would become Tim's favorite.  What I quickly discovered is that a good ole' country boy didn't want quiche or rack of lamb.  Simple suppers were what made my man happy.  Frequent calls to momma and Tim's dad, during the brief time he lived with us, taught me more about country cooking than any cookbook did.

It didn't take the love of cookbooks (or learning new meals) away though.  My counter top is lined with dusty, grease-spattered, bunny-eared books.  Over the years I've taught Tim that macaroni and cheese isn't a vegetable and broccoli won't kill him.

But I do know when to open the country cupboard.

Since Tim has been traveling the past couple weeks and living off hotel food, I thought a nice home-cooked meal might bring a smile to his face.  In writing out the grocery list this morning, I asked him what he'd like for dinner.  To my surprise, he quickly belted out a request.

And even though it was 100 degrees in the shade, I was happy to heat up the kitchen for him.

Wondering what was for dinner?

Well, it was kraut and sausage stewed together.  And buttery mashed potatoes light as a feather.

Rich and creamy macaroni and cheese.  With a steamin' cup of brown beans, if you please.

Yum. Yum.

Noah, knowing the plans but tossing pies, sent me a text request for all leftovers to be brought down and shared.  I pulled out my finest Tupperware of butter bowls and yogurt containers for Tim to deliver.  He later sent a thank you that every bowl was licked clean and the crew wanted an invite to our next meal.

As much as I enjoy cooking for others, I'm also touched when someone repays the favor.  This morning I awoke to breakfast being cooked by hubby.  He was even disappointed that I made it out of the bedroom before he had time to bring it to me.  It was an unexpected and sweet way to start my day, belly full of joy.

Comfort in a Bowl

How could I....lover of soup, hoarder of recipes, connoisseur of chicken noodle, and self-proclaimed culinarian, never have attempted to make the Campbell's classic?

This dawned on me as I stood in my kitchen desperate to find something to comfort my sick boy. 

Noah, who would happily live in boxers, because he's so hot natured, kept asking for us to turn up the fire Sunday afternoon.  That should've been my first clue.  After he requested another blanket and I turned from my book to look back at him, his face said it all.  Flushed, damp eyes, and just an "I don't feel well" look didn't require my hand for a temperature check, but I did it anyway.  Moments later we were staring at a digital display of 101.5.  (Two days-and many prayers it wasn't the flu-later we learned it was strep)

On Monday, with my throat sharing sympathy pains, I decided chicken noodle soup was the answer.  We both needed comfort in a bowl, but the convenient red and white can didn't speak to me.  Knowing I had all but the noodles to make it myself, I began to simmer some chicken while browsing through cookbooks and pinned recipes online.

Seriously?  I'd never made chicken noodle soup?  Truly, I don't know how I've let this happen!

Soup is one of my most beloved meals.  I've long called them "hugs in a bowl" and believe there is not much better on a cold night.  Our family has many favorite recipes and we look forward to the first soup of the season.  In fact, it led to the creation of our annual "Souper Spooky Sunday" each October. 

And although we have tried and true faves, I also enjoy finding and making new creations each year.  Noah joins me in our love of soup, as he's recently been deemed the best chili maker in our family.  His concoction even placed 2nd in a recent church cookoff!

Anywhoo, once I found a combination of recipes I liked, a steamy pot of goodness soon found everyone sniffing around the kitchen.  It was just the right mix of broth, veggies, chicken and noodles, though Noah said he'd be fine with tossing the mirepoix out with the bones next time.  It most certainly was worth a repeat, and given the sickness-infected season we're in the midst of, my pot may stay busy.

Nevertheless, I enjoy nothing more than cooking up some comfort for those I love.  My thank you though, this time, came in the form of sharing the strep with my boy!

Health (and JOY) to you....

Joy Fed

You know you're  a true member of the church, when you cook more for them than your own family.  When your pantry is stuffed with aluminum pans and potluck go-to staples.  When you search Pinterest specifically with the next church meal in mind.

My husband jokes the only time he gets a good meal is when company comes over.  Now he's just as excited when he sees I'm cooking for a potluck.  And I kid him that one of the main reasons he wanted to join our church is because of all the yummy food they have. 

Last week I added to my culinary to-do list by signing my name to the church bulletin board.  With so many families experiencing illness and loss, they've started a group that is willing to cook whenever a need arises.  Recalling how helpful that's been to us in the past, and given how much I enjoy cooking, it was a natural fit.

From experience, I've learned to make double batches though.  If I'm cooking and my family can't try it, they get a little upset.  And I must admit, it's hard to smell something baking and know you can't eat it when it's done.  Plus, it's just as easy to make two dishes as it is one.

Cooking for others is my love language.  It's how I show I care.  When I want to make my family feel special, I cook a meal or dessert I know they'll like.  Holidays and get-togethers are frequently at our home because planning and cooking for a crowd brings me joy.  If I hear of someone not feeling well or suffering a loss, bringing them a meal is something I can do to offer comfort.  And if I know of a certain recipe that brings someone else joy, I'm excited to make it for them as a gift, a surprise, or just because.

I've done a lot of cooking this past week.  Some due to loss, some for togetherness.  In every dish, as I scoop, stir and bake, I'm sprinkling in love.  My hope is that it relieves stress, brings comfort, or lets them know someone cares. 
I was amazed this morning that the sermon was about "feeding the flock." Our pastor gave many examples of how we need to feed our family and neighbors with the love of Jesus.  He shared how we should feed our children with life, with love, and with learning.  And to then lead them to feed others.  It was a sweet ending to a week of feeding others and it reminded me of the other ways I can nourish them. 

How can you feed someone this week?