What Foods Are Meaningful to You?

i spy boichik! :) signed, bay area girl

My mom makes a tuna casserole that I love! She also makes these chocolate lava cakes at Thanksgiving and Christmas that my husband loves. My paternal grandmother made delicious rice pudding. She died when I was young, but I still remember it. My maternal grandmother would make me cherry pie and she’d open one of the little coffee creamers on the table at restaurants and pour coffee in it for me to taste, lol. After church on Sundays, we’d have stuffed chicken breast for lunch. My dad would make stuffed mushrooms when my family used to host Christmas brunch. So many memories connected to food!

My husband and I fondly call the Torres Black Truffle Potato Chips “marriage chips” because we ate them from the mini bar in the hotel the night of our wedding. We NEVER let ovselves indulge in minibar snacks (too expensive!!!) so it felt extra indulgent while my husband fed them to me while I took a very long hot bath. Now whenever we eat “marriage chips” I am instantly brought back to that sweet sweet post-wedding bliss!

Now that my daughter is 13, it’s fascinating to hear her talk about what are her comfort foods and nostalgia foods from her earlier childhood. One that surprised me is (despite the fact that I cook from scratch the large amount of weekday dinners) Trader Joe’s frozen gnocchi, the kind with the tomato sauce and mozzarella and you just toss it in a skillet for a few min. I mean, it’s objectively delicious and also she remembers it as the meal I would make when I had to work late and I would come home and make this for us. So I kinda love that because when she’s a young adult out in the world and she’s a little lonely for home or wants to feel taken care of, she can have Trader Joe’s gnocchi and feel comforted. For me, my grandmother always made us Ritz cracker sandwiches with peanut butter and jelly. Every time I make that for myself I think of sitting in her kitchen having lunch with her. BLT’s make me think of my dad, that and coffee with a ton of creamer. He would also make these super rich butter cookies for the holidays that are essentially butter, sugar and hard-boiled egg yolks, which he would dip half in melted chocolate. The first year after he died, I made a batch and my sister and I ate them and cried together. I love my mom’s lasagna and she used to make something called “honey curry chicken” and I loved that served over rice. My husband’s signature dish is french toast made with thick cut King’s Hawaiian bread and it is delicious! Food always holds a lot of memories for me. and so many meals end up connected to people or experiences or places for me.

When my kids are having a tough time they ask for French toast. Which is funny because I didn’t grow up eating it often and only made it so much because my first was on the egg ladder for allergy desensitization. 3 eggs, 1/4 c milk, tablespoon of sugar, huge spoon of cinnamon, big shake of vanilla powder, Schar brioche. Fry in butter and serve with powdered sugar. My nostalgia foods are BLTs, homemade pizza (my dad made every Friday in lent since mom doesn’t like fish), my dad’s sugar cube bread that he’d deliver around town on Christmas Eve, shepherd’s pie with a ton of cheddar and crushed potato chips on top. I make pissaladière rouge (a local bread with caramelized onions and tomato paste) but my base is a gluten free version of the King Arthur Flour Detroit pizza dough.

You know when you are grown up when you have successfully cooked the Christmas dinner. I come from a family of 7 and my mutti would put a 22 lb turkey in the oven on Christmas Eve and it would scent the house when we woke up in the morning. Later on she would bone the entire turkey, put a large ham inside and then sew it back up again, all the while worrying that she wouldn’t be able to get the edges together (I had the job of holding the edges together whilst she sewed……..it was always fine) When my sisters and I took over cooking this meal mutti would have the final say on whether the turkey was done. After all these years the meal we have now is non-negotiable, roast potatoes (of course) Delia Smith’s parmesan parsnips, red cabbage with apple and spices, Brussels sprouts, my gravy and the bread sauce. My mutti had Alzheimer and wasn’t able to do her thing for the last few years and we aspire to be able to poke the bird with a finger and say, “yes, that’s done”. This is just a gentle ramble to say that I only have roast potatoes and parmesan parsnips once a year, the taste of Christmas dinner is so specific and so special………..cheers mutti

Why are these so enjoyable to read through, lol? I had wonderful Christmas’s with delicious memories and I still enjoy reading about all the other traditions people have. So interesting…

French fires, French fries, French fries!

Miniscule squares of orange cheddar cheese. When we were tiny, me and my siblings would call from our beds at night, saying we were hungry. My dad would come with tiny morsels of cheese, about the size a mouse would eat, and we would nibble, ‘get full,’ and go to sleep happy. To this day, I like eating little bites of all different kinds of food :)

Writer, you provide so much comfort. Thank you.

About 15 years ago I started making a huge batch of sugar cookies cut into shapes based on the season along with cream cheese icing dyed to decorate the cookies. Then my two kids plus anywhere between 4 and 10 neighbor kids come over to decorate them. My kids are now 17 and 19 and as the whole gaggle of kids sat down to decorate the fall leaves and acorn shaped cookies this past November one of the neighbor kids asked how much longer was I planning to have cookie decorating parties. Me, thinking “uh-oh here’s where they tell me they are getting too old to decorate cookies”. Instead she asked “So if I want to still decorate your cookies when I’m 47 you’ll still make them?”. My heart burst with happiness that I had created a meaningful ritual for someone.

After a really long cold train ride. My long-distance-boyfriend picked me up and had self-made carrot-lentile-soup ready at home. After 10 years it still is a very special dish. Do you realize, it is often food other people made that have a special meaning…

Cinnamon toast, cake, coleslaw, baked seasoned sweet potatoes, and meatloaf, all are attached to loving times in my life. Those foods represent Family, me, summer, old me, and childhood

Food that parents make. Whenever we go home, MIL cooks the same favorites, year after year. So comforting to know that no matter what time our flight arrives, there will be tortilla espanola, milanesa, and tortellinis kept warm for us.

Whenever I’m feeling sad, I’ll grab some Cheez-its and unsweet iced tea (hello, I’m from Texas). My grandmother, my Nana, died of COVID during the pandemic, and she was never much of a cook. But I spent my summers at her house as a kid, and every afternoon when my brothers would go down for a nap, she’d fill a cup with unsweet iced tea and a recycled Country Crock bowl with Cheez-its, and we’d watch Oprah together. I felt so special during those afternoons, like only my Nana and I existed on the earth for a moment. Now when I reach for the Cheez-its and tea, I feel the cozy love of my Nana filling me up.

My mom was a true perfectionist, with all its good and bad trappings. She loved making everything she could from scratch, or at least knowing how. She had a whole portfolio of things she made routinely (whole wheat bread), annually (soft caramels wrapped in wax paper), or once in a blue moon (cheez-its). Many of these were recipes she adapted from staple cookbooks. Mom’s own copies were meticulously annotated in neat pencil, paired with a bookmarking system using repurposed school handouts, and an indexing system on post-its. In my 20s, my mom gifted me a copy of The Joy of Cooking that included neat pencil annotations and a post-it note index. The copy she gifted me is so precious because she was speaking directly to me. In the most loving way, she wanted her kids to Get Things Right. It mattered to her that we know how to make cranberry sauce (not too much sugar, use orange juice but don’t go crazy with citrus zest). Since her passing, my siblings and I routinely send out a call for Mom’s recipe annotations. “Does anybody have Mom’s raspberry sauce for rice pudding?” And if it’s not in a cookbook, one of us usually has an email she sent when we were able to ask her directly. “Oh yeah, right after college, I wanted to make stuffing for Friendsgiving, and Mom emailed me the recipe with a shopping list that has a preemptive admonishment to not pay too much for the seasoning mix.” It won’t surprise you to learn that we grew up to be a lawyer (meticulous language annotations), a librarian (professional-level indexing), and a scientist (devotedly process-oriented). You of course already understand this, but she wasn’t giving us food, she was giving us these ways of being.

Mandelbrot, always walnuts only and my vivid childhood memory of my great grandmother cracking two pounds of whole walnuts open with a two prong metal scribed nut meal tool and baking them all day in her tiny Brooklyn kitchen. My mother’s very rare attempt at baking included a tasty baked whole apple with cinnamon, brown sugar and imitation vanilla extract served with Howard Johnsons vanilla ice cream. And. the first time my son traveled to Paris, he returned having learned, from his host parent, how to prepare chocolate mousse and continues to every Christmas.

Tortellini with pesto sauce. I remember the first time I ate it; I was about 3yo. We had minor renovations and cleaning to do before selling our old apartment on 49th St in Hell’s Kitchen (where we were allegedly neighbors with Alicia Keys). My dad took me along as he painted, fixed things, and swept. For lunch, he made us frozen tortellini with pesto and we said goodbye to that home. Now, I make it for my own family with basil from my own garden. Earlier this year, my son came home from school and started screaming “I KNOW THAT SMELL! I KNOW THAT SMELL! I KNOW THAT SMELL!” which made me so joyful. It’s one of his favorite meals now!

My most special food is so simple that it makes my friends laugh. My parents and I hype up “papa Jim’s summer cucumbers” as if they are an ornate recipe. We treat them like a treasure and look forward to the first batch each year. In reality, you just thinly slice a fresh summer cucumber or 2 and cover the slices with Marukan seasoned rice vinegar. That’s it. That’s the whole recipe. But it tastes like happy summer dinners and mid-day snacks as a kid. My favorite.

I love to cook and I love to eat, so I could go on forever, but will try to keep it short. Every Thanksgiving we have to make my grandma’s rolls and stuffing. My late uncle would call me EVERY year to ask for the roll recipe. Did he really not keep it, or did he just want to call? He died in 2020, and I was tickled when one of his children reached out for the recipe this year. And my other grandpa would always have me help him mix up the Jiffy corn muffin batter in a green Tupperware bowl. Memories!

Necco wafers. I think most people think they’re gross old-fashioned candy, but they remind me of my dad, who loved them and would always share his roll with me.

Honestly it’s not the eating, but the making of certain foods that feels special to me. Peeling potatoes, I’m a kid at the sink peeling with my dad right beside me. Making rice I always think of my mom because we always made it together a certain way. Ice cream sundaes, my grandfather who had a tradition of “ice cream Saturdays” with the grandkids (“they can’t be called sundaes if it’s not Sunday”!) Cookies, my sister who used to make them with me in my college apartment and we’d pick a song for each kind of cookie to be the cookie’s soundtrack.

A slice of fresh bread with french butter… Heaven! I am an austrian woman living in Mexico.

My husband has been sober for 8 1/2 years, and navigating that has had the lovely surprise of making ice cream a special food for our family. Ice cream has played a big role in all our celebrations and adventures — the way champagne or beer might for someone else. We toast with ice cream. We stop for an ice cream in a new city. We crack open a cold pint of something when we’re working hard in the yard or after an especially long day. We gather around ice cream and have become whatever the ice cream equivalent of a microbrew-beer-snob/wine-connoisseur is. It is our thing, and ice cream is absolutely loaded with so much emotion for me. It kept us celebrating and adventuring in a way that felt familiar, but also unburdened. Ice cream lives in the most tender part of my heart, and I will always be happy to share a cone or a sundae with the people I love.

The smell of pork lard slowly sizzling on the stove will be forever the smell of my Grandmother.

I just had a conversation with my husband about how his family has a “logistical” relationship with foods. They eat because they have to, in order to survive. No indulging in something special, sharing something delicious or pausing to appreciate flavors, texture…. It is so freaky to me… it makes me sad that they seem unable to get pleasure through delicious or special food. For some reason my husband escaped this family trait. Food is a key love language in my book! Nothing feels more special than bringing a special food from a trip or enjoying a dish you specially love! In fact, I am hoping to practice my grandmother’s cauliflower tamale recipe with my mom this holiday season. As a way to honor her, enjoy time with my mom and eat something special and delicious!

From the comments I managed to read, I’d say if not for many other regions food is definitely a major part of German culture;b! I do remember bringing Xmas goods or at minimum baking utensils and heirloom recipies even to high summer`s parties as guest pressies for exchange families or friends families abroad. I swear by my families Lebkuchen”sandwiches” as the best xmas good, of course!…but I’d say it is not just a comfort thing it is the upbringing with seasonal rituals involving foods (Lebkuchen & mulled wine or fire scissors punch, green and red cabbage as festive sides etc, Spring: Rhubarb and white Asparagus and then Strawberries til Midsummer, all the other yummy berries, Tomato Time, then beets and pumpkin and apples asf… you do get at least looks or even comments buying produce out of its season. Of course there are old or new ways of preserving the goodness for later;b. My mom swore the elderberry juice or the ribwort sirup (from a clay pot dug up in late autumn) we drank during winter kept us healthy growing up and since. I am still curious about and exchanging little medicinal recipies with friends now. Then with you and most here certain foods tend to be bound to loved ones or just lovely people. A friend of mine wrote me, after she heard of my dad’s passing, that he will always be with me, when I bake or make all the lovely foods we used to make together and I it is so true… I will even toast with him with our small beloved “baking whisky” when the Lebkuchenschnitten or the first apple tart (from his and now our garden) are in the oven. Or will remember all the small wisdoms my grandmother, mum or dad taught us in the kitchen and maybe never added as little side notes in recipe books, or of course before that in the garden, when the foods are growing “the right way”. And also new comforts and rituals like the birthday pancakes we make for our birthdays for each other, it is marking something special. I love to have regional specialties when traveling (I mean all the simple greatness in the Mediterraneans or when hiking or skiing in Austria… . And well, yes I’d say you can always cater foods for special needs (allergies, way less sugar) and thereby make them your own.

When I was little, and extremely spoiled, I was very picky about food. The things I liked most were white rice and black tea (very strange…). They were often my breakfast. Just to be clear, I’m Portuguese — this is not traditional in Portugal at all :). Even today, my comfort food is plain white rice with a fried egg (with a slice of cheese under the rice), accompanied by a cup of black tea.

My husband has been vegetarian for his whole life and it was important to him that our kids also start out life that way – obviously they’re free to eat whatever they want now that they’re older, but we only serve vegetarian at home. It took me years to figure out vegetarian options for the comfort foods of my own childhood – bolognese sauce for spaghetti, Swedish meat balls, fish sticks and a few others. Making these dishes as satisfying and delicious as a I remember them (without just subbing in soy) takes a bit more time, but now my old favorite foods are also my kids’ favorite foods and that makes me incredibly happy.

Rice with soy sauce and parmesan straight out of the microwave. Lived off it every end of the month as a student (of medicine, haha!), when the little money I had left was rather spent on cigarettes and beer. Oh the choices you make in your twenties…

Oh I love food! On odd occasions it is just fuel but most of the time its for something delicious (that also fuels) and so many memories are centred around food. When I was younger, my family always sat round the dinner table at night time. We didn’t have much money so we didn’t have extravagant dishes but it was a time for us 4 kids and Mum and Dad to sit round and chat about our day. One dish we had on a regular basis (because it was cheap and cheerful and could be bulked out with oatmeal and root veg) was mince and tatties which I adore. When I make it now, I always remember my own Dad who loved it and also my Father In Law who had a soft spot for it too :) Tortelloni, good olive oil and good paremsan cheese is a fave but it also transports me back to the early days of motherhood when my husband was away and I just wanted dinner quickly (and could eat with one hand). Deli sandwiches filled with every sort of meat you can think of reminds me of when my husband and I were dating. We worked funny shifts so didnt eat meals together often but we quite often made huge deli sandwiches at 2 in the morning when we finished work and would eat them washed down with a bottle of beer. I love a buffet with Mac and Cheese, Pulled Pork and various sides as thats our Go To for having friends over so when I smell them, I know we are in for a good night! I could go on so I shall stop now as otherwise this comment would be longer than the actual post!!

My Grandma was an excellent cook and she wrote down all her basic recipies. I use them regularly but the all time favourite is her “Hemelse modder” (translated to Heavenly Mud). It is a decadent chocolate mousse that everyone loves. We make it every christmas, but I love making small portions to eat on days that are not special. It makes them special :)

This is timely, my mum had a strange relationship with food, and I always felt I had missed out on the treasures of family recipes. Then I listened to an interview with Ina Garten and was so shocked that she also came from a home where food was feared not celebrated. So if the queen of all food Ina can recreate food memories, so can I! I roast a really lovely chicken and have mastered the crispiest potatoes as requested by my son. I make Alison Roman’s chocolate chunk shortbread regularly as a gift, and the taste of a piece of crispy roti dunked in my mother in laws laksa instantly brings me joy.

Sourdough bread! I’m a Bay Area native, lived there til I was almost 30, the last 11 actually in San Francisco. It’s true you can get sourdough anywhere, but it simply cannot match the tang of made in SF sourdough! Old timers say it’s the fog that adds to the sour part of the culture. After I moved away, everytime I visited I would come home with several loaves of sourdough, and would pop them in the freezer to ration it out! My Great Aunt Marion bought a special bag just for transporting sourdough to London everytime she visited one of my cousins…it held exactly 12 loaves…and my cousin also rationed out the sourdough, making it last til Marion’s next visit!

Whenever I would come home from college or visit as an adult, my mom would go all out preparing a bunch of Korean food – Kalbi (marinated short ribs), crispy bindaedduk (mung bean pancakes with pork, kimchi, etc), seaweed soup, rice, and lots of banchan (side dishes). Definitely a feast to look forward to and a warm welcome home!

A PB&J. I must have one every week, if I don’t I can tell the difference—it somehow recharges my battery. My husband knows to get out of the way when I fix the cabinet with a meaningful stare and announce, “It’s PB&J time!!!”

My family is South Asian (Bangladeshi) so we didn’t grow up with our parents saying I love you to us, but we were shown love and taken care of lovingly. Food played a big part in showing us love. Even to this day, my parents will call and ask if I’ve eaten. That’s their way of saying I love you. It took me a while to come to terms with that, being born and raised here in America and seeing images of families telling each other “I love you” so often and so naturally. Only recently, have I come to understand my parents loved (and love) my brothers and I fiercely, but they showed it in different ways. They made us feel their love. Mangos- My dad always picks the ripest, sweetest mangos, even in the dead of winter. He would meticulously cut the peels away, or better yet cut them in boat shapes so we could scrape the fruit with our teeth from the peel, letting the juice drip down our arms. Mangos reminded him of Bangladesh, a country he left when he was just 15 years old and came to America on his own. My dad is now diabetic and he cannot eat the fruits that he loved so much, yet he will take a walk almost weekly to the farmer’s market or the fruitstand and pick out the freshest, sweetest berries, melons, and yes mangos, come over to my house and cut and peel fruit for my kids. While my dad might not say I love you to them, my kids are very secure and confident in their truth that their grandfather loves them very much. They can tell in the perfectly cut cubes of ripe mango. Bagels- We live in NYC (born and raised) and my dad worked in the East Village for over 30 years. He would walk over to Russ and Daughters on his lunch break and bring home freshly made bagels, bialys and butter, schmears of cream cheese. The smell of toasted garlic or onion bagels with salted butter seeping into the bagel was intoxicating. To this day, a buttered bagel will bring me back to my childhood and to the East Village. Korma Poulau- My mom makes the best Korma Pulau in the world. She isn’t the best cook but her korma and pulau is so delicious. (Korma is a yogurt or cream based curry rich with North Indian, Mughal history and pulau is fragrant basmati rice studded with cardamom and cinnamon). She would only make it on special occasions and holidays (which we only have 2 of in the Muslim faith lol so it was quite the treat) and when guests would come over with plenty of notice. Making korma pulau was an all night process for my mom. She would cook it after went to bed, and my brothers and I would lay in bed, drinking in that delicious smell, giddy with excitment because we knew it would be Eid the next day and we could have korma pulau for lunch (and it must be eaten with your hands-it’s the only way to eat rice and curry really). She still makes it for me and my kids and nieces and nephews, and my kids run to the kitchen as soon as they get to my parents, excited to eat Nani’s korma and pulau. We were and still are loved by my parents, I am sure of it.

Oh wow wow wow what a question. I have so many. But two that popped right to the forefront of my mind are, first, I make our daughters birthday pancakes every year since they’ve been eating solid food haha. We all walk into the birthday girl’s room with a stack of pancakes (I add sprinkles and usually almond extract, always Krusteaz buttermilk pancake mix, I learned that pro-tip from a comment on COJ!) with a lit candle and wake them up in bed with off-key singing. The next is, you know those cute little signs many kids take pictures with their first day of school? I think ours say “Hello First Grade” and the like. They take the photos in the morning with their little banners, and in the evening I’ve made their favorite cake, with that banner stuck in the middle! Along with tons fresh edible flowers and berries (garden always exploding in early September).

My kids request “green dinner” salad, pesto, salmon, veggies. We live, they grew up in Georgia but we also call this “Sunset Magazine Dinner” after their/my California roots. Also cutting fruit is a love language.

Cookies! My mom is a great baker and eating her cookies feels like love. And about 10 years ago my godmother, who we were close to and who taught my mom to cook, died unexpectedly. In the days afterwards we found a tin of her signature cookies– a salty shortbread made with powdered sugar– in her kitchen that she must have made in her last days. We ate them and cried and cried and also laughed, for our grief but also with happy memories of our relationship with her.

In our family the supreme comfort food is yeast bread , specifically “tea rings.” A tea ring is a yeast dough rolled out, butter and sugar cinnamon mix on top, then rolled, shaped in a ring in an angle food type pan, and when baked, topped with a white icing drizzle. Mom made them for all of us and friends every Christmas. Now my three daughters and grandkids have a tea ring making extravaganza every year the day after Thanksgiving. This year we made 16 to eat and give away. We think of Mom and her sister all day. We even use the pans Mom baked hers in.

Ones that stand the test of time or tell a story: My father’s favourites from his life (pistachios, rhubarb, ribs); the food that I ate when I lived in Germany (goulash, pumpkin soup, fresh pretzel, raclette); and the comfortable mainstay of my favourite salad with broccoli, avocado and blue cheese. I think you could ask the same question with drinks. A Mosel riesling brings me to my knees and nothing makes me feel warmer than a hot lemon-ginger from White Squirrel Cafe near my office.

My Dad died many years ago, but I still think about so many of the things he made from scratch favorites being giant molasses cookies, hummus, focaccia, and the best hot chocolate ever. Also the first bagel I ate after moving to NYC 15 years ago stands out.

A steaming hot bowl of chicken Pho always reminds me of the wonderful years I lived with friends out by the ocean in San Francisco, where every night the fog creeps in and becomes a good night to eat Pho at the kitchen table talking about boys.

Growing up, my great aunt was a wonderful baker. She lived close enough that her house was one of the first places I was allowed to walk to on my own (like a big girl!) and she would have cookies or coffee cake or some other delicious fresh baked treat waiting. I inherited her cookie jar and many of her hand written recipes. When my boys were little we baked often and used Aunt Marie’s recipes. Even though they never met her, we all smiled up to Heaven when we filled her cookie jar. Her lebkuchen, stollen, tea time tassies, lemon bars, and the anise cookies that I just made for Thanksgiving – that’s comfort for me. Her recipes and cookie jar are among the items I would save in a fire!

Vegemite sandwiches No other words required, but I could write a haiku, a sonnet, or an entire epic poem in iambic pentameter to express my love for the humble yet delicious Vegemite sandwich.

Toast rack? I know the picture explains it.. but I have never heard of this. Maybe an English thing?

My dad always makes a big breakfast with eggs, sausage, biscuits, and hashbrowns. It’s definitely his love language.

I recently realized why I always wanted a particular kind of chocolate cake for my birthday – it was the birthday cake that was served at Bill Knapps, a Midwestern restaurant where my family went for special occasions in the 1970s. When my wonderful friend found out, she took to the internet to find that old recipe and surprised me on my next birthday with my childhood cake. I loved the cake, but I mostly loved how incredibly loved my friend made me feel!

My family is Southern on both sides and I immediately thought of family holiday recipes, be they good or bad. My mom makes an old-school broccoli casserole that I always have for breakfast the day after Thanksgiving. The kind with cream of mushroom soup, crushed ritz crackers and shredded cheddar. She still brings it every year even though her SIL makes her own broccoli casserole “because her kids like whole broccoli” (sure). My paternal grandmother and aunts would make an ambrosia salad during the holidays that I think consisted of sectioned oranges (no pith!), maraschino cherries, and sweetened, flaked coconut. I haven’t had this in years but it immediately makes me think of Thanksgiving with that side of the family. And my maternal grandmother’s dubious claim to fame for holidays was making a jello salad with cranberry or lime jello, with fruit and other stuff suspended throughout the jello. I never actually tasted these because they always looked so bizarre but if anyone mentions this situation/ or I see a picture, I always think of her.

I love this question and topic. My dear friend recently suffered a serious injury and was on a feeding tube for a little over a week. She’s slowly integrating some solid foods into her routine at the hospital. And this gives me pause. The ability to eat what I want, by mouth, is such a blessing.

Brodo with the works at Christmas time (even though it was usually scorching in Australia) My sister makes the best ricotta cake for Easter, how we all love it. Gnocchi and probably one of my favourites, melon wrapped with prosciutto. I could go on and on. Oh and of course arrosticini.

Homemade pierogi. I have memories (and pictures) of me making them with my grandmother as a child, flour on our cheeks to show how “hard” we were working :) I’ve since made them dozens of times with new additions to the family and friends near and far. I love them so much, my husband and I named our dog Pierogi!

I’m pregnant and can basically only stomach carbs right now. The other day I had an intense craving for my mom’s rice pilaf – basically egg noodles cooked in butter, add the rice, and simmer it all in chicken broth (with more butter for serving). My mom used to make this for us when my brother and I were kids. She now has early onset Alzheimer’s and hasn’t cooked anything in years, so tasting this dish for the first time in decades almost made me weepy. It’s still incredible!

In our family, for birthdays my mother made us yellow fragant rice in a cone shape with shredded chicken, shredded fried eggs, stir fried tempeh and vegetable salad with shredded coconut. Now a mother myself, I too make it for my husband and 3 kids in their birthday morning. It is a lot of work but so worth it to see their faces lighten up when they wake up and see te surprise ‘cake’

Coming home from the hospital with hours old twins to a sun shining through my windows and a crock pot of Hungarian cabbage rolls on the counter made by my dad has become one of my best food memories of all time. Smelled and tasted like being home and being loved.

Comfort foods from my childhood – I can smell them now – cinnamon toast made in the oven, biscuits from the can you slam on the counter, my dad’s pancakes, and my grandmama”s potato pancakes. The foods my kids loved and were served on those hard days – hot molasses milk, home made bread and cinnamon rolls, dutch babies, and a dinner of home made mac and cheese, baked sweet potatoes and tofu made by their dad. The food doesn’t have to be fancy – just made and served with love.

Every time my siblings and I went to stay with my grandma, we would bake chocolate chip cookies together. Not from scratch, just the tube of Nestle Tollhouse, but she ALWAYS let us eat the cookie dough – something our parents would have never! She’d wink and say ‘our secret’ and gosh just thinking about it makes me a little misty.

It’s icecream slice for us. Specifically during the Aussie Christmas heat. My Aunty would make giant tupperware slabs of it and we would greedily eat piece after piece. As her health declined and she couldn’t do much you would forgive her for forgoing the icecream slice. But no, one of the last texts I have from her is a bunch of mis-placed letters and in amongst them the message; ‘I am making icecream slice’. Of course you are. She had her carers do everything while she supervised. 4 weeks later she was gone. But we will always have icecream slice. Recipe: 1 tin condensed milk. 600ml THICKENED cream. Whisk these together until its a giant pillowy cloud. Mix in something fun, Tilly always did one honeycomb and one peppermint. Lay biscuits (cookies) on the bottom of a tray. Dollop the fluffy mix on the cookies. Top with more cookies. Freeze. Slice and serve.

Peanut butter and jelly on saltines, pressed together into a tiny sandwich that crumbled when you took a bite. My mom made this as a snack all the time when we were kids. Homemade biscuits with Jimmy Dean sausage gravy. Almost daily breakfast growing up. Chicken and dumplings, my mom’s specialty.

My Father’s side of the family is Greek – so all the classics are very special to me – spanakopita, moussaka, baklava. But especially dolmades which my Yiayia taught me to make by hand from grape leaves in her garden when I was a kid. Also high on the list is pavlova, which I made to impress my Austalian husband back when we were dating – with homemade lemon curd and all! It is not my most favorite dessert and I always request it on my birthday.

My number one is pancakes or waffles made lovingly by my husband. I had a big crush in him for a long time, but he was hesitant because we have an age gap. One night, he invited me over and his best friend was visiting. We went out drinking beer in a great city for beer in the PNW. All night his best friend and I were convincing him it was a great idea to date me. That was the first night I stayed over and he made us waffles in the morning. I just remember waking up in his bed and feeling so happy. We’ve been together for 13 years now, married for 10 this year. He tries to make pancakes at least once a week for me and our two kids. It just brings me back to being 27-28 waking up on his too firm mattress and knowing we were going to be together. You know people that *just know* this person is their one? That’s what it felt like and even now, after so much time together, it feels like no time at all. I am so grateful his best friend (we now call him Uncle Mike) agreed with me.

There is this Christmas cookie our family makes that everyone I’ve ever given one to thinks they are dense and bland, but my family is absolutely obsessed with them. They are white “bready” cookies that rely heavily on nutmeg as the flavor. We put powder sugar and milk frosting on top. The recipe we have makes over 100, but we secretly love that everyone hates them because we can eat all of them ourselves. My mom sent me photos that she baked them, and I don’t see her for ten days. I’m secretly hoping she sent a package in the mail.

My great grandmother immigrated from Slovakia and she used to make Potica (po-TEET-sa) bread for everyone and wrap it in an embroidered tea towel she had made and send it to relatives all over the country. It was by far my favorite holiday treat. We’re not big on cooking or baking in my family (I usually like what is simplest & easiest :) ) but my kids (and hubby and I) have always had cheese fondue, with veg, shrimp, & good bread, for the Solstice. Sometimes we’ll also have chocolate fondue with poundcake cake and fruit for New Years. We love it !

So interesting reading these comments! I seem to have the food equivalent of aphantasia–food/recipes just don’t call up any visceral memories for me. Intellectually, I sometimes remember where I ate something or associate a particular food with a particular person, but it doesn’t make me feel particularly fond/nostalgic about that food. Occasionally I’ll get cravings for a particular dish but, again, there doesn’t seem to be an emotional component that I can decipher. I don’t really have a favorite food, I’ll eat almost anything (not fond of olives), and I cook every day only because I have to eat every day on a middle-class salary. Our differences make this great world spin.

A couple of years ago , every now and then I’d book a solo trip . I had just lost my father and I needed to process everything . Just a week or two all by myself ( I was single ) . I was staying at a lovely guest house in a tiny village . I’d go for a long walk and try to pay attention to small details .. flowers , birds etc . One day I met a man walking his dog and we decided to walk the dog together everyday . I invited him over for lunch . Lasagna , salad and apple cake. Needless to say we fell in love and everytime I feel the urge to tell him how grateful I am to have him in my life I’d cook the same exact meal . No need to say anything , he gets it.

Ooh so fun! Here are some of mine: – My dad’s “award-winning” clam chowder. He used to be a chef, and one of his claims to fame was that George Lucas said it was the best clam chowder he’d ever had. We make it every year the day after Thanksgiving. – My dad’s pizza dough recipe, perfected in the restaurant where he worked, met my mom, then later owned with my mom in the 80s/early 90s. – “Chicken, broccoli, and rice,” a self-explanatory casserole dish my mom used to make whenever one of my siblings or I was sick. – My great aunt’s buttermilk chocolate cake, made for countless birthdays growing up and now requested by my toddler for his birthday. – My nana’s lane cake, a family specialty at Christmastime. Made one year with whiskey instead of brandy and forever dubbed “the whiskey cake.” – “Ribs in a pot,” another recipe of my Nana’s involving, you guessed it, pork ribs marinated in soy sauce, ginger, and brown sugar, cooked in a big old pot. – My mom’s actual best sugar cookies in the world thanks to one secret ingredient. – The Spanish rice my mother-in-law makes, taught to her by her mother-in-law.

– no-bake pink rasberry cheesecake with crushed ‘speculoos’ cookies as the bottom layer and grated white chocolate ‘snow’ and on top: our staple birthday cake that is easy to make but looks fancy – green leek soup: my mum always had soup on the stove. As a mum, I now always feel ‘on top of things” when I have fresh soup to serve after school while I get dinner ready. – meat stew (Flemish dish “stoofvlees’): my husband just makes the absolute best stoofvlees. Winter comfort food. And I love how proud he is of it. He cannot eat it without commenting on just how good it is.

If my Mom makes me crab cakes, I know she still loves me.

This is fun to read, although im in throws of morning sickness and most foods right now bring me zero joy or comfort(even the thought of them 😮‍💨) but here is a tiny list: Tomato soup and grilled cheese, nothing fancy or elaborate, from can made with milk, plenty of crackers to crush, doesnt matter the cheese ore bread for the sandwich. My mom wasnt a cook, most the time you could tell it wasnt how she wanted to spend her time, but this was a staple rotation and I still love it. O’henry Bars(what everyone called special k bars) from my grandma. She would turn a cereal box inside out and mail me a box of bars to my college dorm. My husband is a great cook and so is his mom, so most of the meals I now love and find comfort in are from him and his side of the family, like a heaping pile of meatballs drizzled in gravy over mashed potatoes, from scratch. When I would venture to my friends houses their house would be filled with the scents of their mom or dad preparing a meal and that wasn’t the case for me or my home so one thing we talked about when dating and before we had kids was I always want our home to have that smell of meal preparations, for my kids to have that comforting and caring.