If we lived close by, or if I had the plans or means to be in your kitchen this weekend, I would undoubtedly be scouring the internet for a series of delicious recipes to (*fingers crossed*) perfectly prepare on Sunday.
[Or, like, making a reservation at the Club for brunch but PLEASE, in the name of this blog give me a break on this one.]
You see, it was from you I learned to communicate the, uh, ‘matters of the heart’ (oh hell, let’s be sappy today) via homemade dishes.
Fresh loaves of bread to welcome.
Cookies to congratulate.
Dense brownies to soak up tears.
A jar of homemade preserves for the hostess.
Bags of spiced nuts during the holidays.
And, in the darkest times, a warm casserole to say, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Your hugs always come with wafts of black Lipton tea and, if we’re being honest, a hint of butter. Sometimes, a touch of brown sugar. On Saturdays, the lure of bacon.
It’s certainly because of you I can’t show up, not even to Angie’s Pizza & Movie Birthday, without a tray of crudities and fresh hummus. What’s a pre-game without baked brie? Do I dare to ask someone over for coffee and not bake muffins?
No, I don’t.
Because, more than the physical act of feeding someone, you give people a piece, slice, nibble or taste of your home. People open up, calm down and let loose around you because you’ve spread your home far and wide — it lines their fridges, shelves and, almost immediately, their stomachs.
You brought home with you to my college house, to my college roommates when you’d show up with bags of chocolate bark and plans to have everyone over for dinner.
You leave a little home with me when a pot of soup simmers on my New York stove as you go.
Every time you email a recipe, to me or my friends, it’s a bit of home lighting up our screens.
So this Sunday, when I’m in New York and Frankie’s in South Carolina and Ally’s in St. Louis and you and dad are driving through the rolling hills of the Carolinas and your sniffing your flowers and opening your card, know that we all love and miss you — and, if we could have, we would have found a way to bake those flowers and cook up that card ourselves.