Small word, big implications.
It means so much, yet can be so meaningless too.
We “love” chocolate, the weather, that flower, that car, that phone, that whatever…for the moment.
We love someone and marry them, give birth to children we love, divorce someone we used to love, mourn the parents we hated as teens and love now, and love our grandchildren…
It makes little sense as we try to explain it all, yet it makes absolute sense as we navigate the pitfalls of love we’re immersed in.
Imagine aliens trying to figure out love. Maybe we have an explanation for 12,500 years of research into the concept, huh?
So I’m jumping away from love as a concept, and switching to a more tangible expression of love. It’s the magic we insert into food.
Love as magic? As in witches and broomsticks? Stickpins and voodoo dolls? Potions and spells?
Yeah, exactly like that. The magic of herbs but more practical than mere love potions and spells for prosperity. It’s the magic to keep a family healthy and happy, harmonious and functional, cohesive and diverse. It’s the magic of love for the lack of another word to express what a “good cook” does to food as it is being prepared.
Now that everyone thinks my pot is cracked as a result of too much honeymoon, I want you to think about what I’m talking about. Here’s the example, and I know most of us have seen this in action, and yes, my evidence to support this idea is entirely anecdotal, there has been NO scientific testing to support it, although it might be money better spent than some of the projects I’ve seen funded.
Person A is one of those truly gifted cooks who probably wins the awards at the local county fair, is sought after to contribute to each and every bake sale, who contributes to the local church suppers, and everyone loves an invitation to stay for supper. She’s beyond a “good cook” and is sailing obliviously towards sainthood in the eyes of her family and friends in regards to her magical touch in the kitchen.
Person B has taken classes, diligently applies herself, and her food is pretty good. She just can’t beat Person A’s fair entries, and while her food is good, it’s never quite as good as Person A’s, even when she uses the same recipe.
Person C hates cooking, and does it well enough to get by. Once in a while, she tries one of Person A or Person B’s recipes, but they never come out all that well. She would rather head to a restaurant or eat at the church supper with someone else cooking.
Now when you look at the three people, they all possess roughly the same technical skills. They can all read and follow a recipe. Their food LOOKS the same, it’s made from the same ingredients in the same proportion…but it doesn’t taste the same.
So what is the difference?
I’m serious here…I’m not making fun. It’s the same recipe, similar equipment, the same ingredients…and yet, the food is nothing alike.
It’s because of the magic, which from what I can tell is a kind of love, the love of providing for her family, the love of good health, the vitality…it is all injected into the ingredients as the food is prepared and even served. It doesn’t cause a VISIBLE change, but the change is noticed by the palate.
We crave that magic that is in that food, that intangible ingredient that thing that can’t be measured.
We need that ingredient to stay healthy and happy and motivated and vital.
Think about it. You know I’m right.