Friday, January 22, 2010

Neighbor Friday: A Design So Vast

Hi Readers! TKW here! I am so thrilled to share the words of Lindsey from A Design So Vast with you today. She's a beautiful writer who always makes me think, feel, and vow to be a better person. Enjoy!






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One of the (many) parts of Eat, Pray, Love that I adore is a phone conversation between Elizabeth Gilbert and her sister. The sister mentions a family in her neighborhood who has recently received some awful medical news, and Elizabeth Gilbert thinks: “That family needs grace.” Her sister says: “That family needs casseroles.” That passage has always made me smile with the recognition of the myriad ways that people offer support. With the knowledge that sometimes, casseroles are grace.

It also reminds me intensely of my mother, for whom food often is grace. For her, it is a way of expressing the abundance of her love, a way of supporting the spirit by nourishing the body. Right after my first child was born, I slipped into severe post-partum depression. During what remains the darkest time of my life, my mother showed up on my doorstep, almost daily, with full meals. I remember holding my squalling, red-faced newborn and watching her, slightly stunned, as she bustled into the kitchen, in minutes making it more homey than it had felt all day. She set the table, lit candles, heated up roast chicken or baked sweet potatoes or sliced pork tenderloin or tossed a big salad. With my mum cooking in my kitchen I felt safe, the emotion that was so terrifyingly, shockingly absent in the rest of my experience of my daughter’s infancy. My own mother was there, and in her company, supported by her warmth and her delicious food, I could face the idea of being a mother myself.

That is just one example of the ways that Mum’s particular brand of food-related magic has marked my entire life. She is an exemplary cook, all the more impressive to me for how rarely she uses recipes. Her intuition about food is remarkable, as is the fluidity with which she handles the cooking process. She said once that the difference between she and I is that when I’m making something I make sure I have all of the ingredients before I start cooking, whereas she starts cooking and if she doesn’t have an ingredient she just makes something else. She goes with the flow in a way that I can only dream of doing. She cooks and welcomes guests and sips wine and passes hors d’oeurves and makes toasts with characteristic and seamless aplomb. She is so relaxed about entertaining, in fact, that a classic scene of my childhood was my sister and I answering the door and entertaining guests while Mum showered and got dressed (it’s hard for me to remember where my Dad was in this memories!). From the living room, if we looked down the long narrow hall, we could occasionally glimpse her dashing back and forth from her room to the kitchen, her hair in curlers, wearing a slip, to stir something on the stove. To this day she thinks showing up at 7:05 for a 7:00 invitation is a travesty! The ease with which Mum hosts and feeds and celebrates others is magnetic and, indeed, powerfully graceful.

She cooks simple things (a favorite childhood casserole) and fancy things (crown roast of pork) with equal skill. I associate her home with dark gray Calphalon pots simmering on the stove. There are, always, clouds of delicious smells, hugs, offers of snacks and drinks. Always. Food is a part of the way my mother shows her support and its abundance echoes how plentiful that support is. I am immensely grateful to have grown up in a kitchen so rich with nourishment, both for the body and for the soul.

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Isn't she great? I knew you'd agree.


For more awesome Neighborly posts, check the links over at The Never-True Tales.

32 comments:

  1. I love this Mom...food always get to the heart of the matter and makes everything better!

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  2. What an honor to be here! Thanks, TKW!
    xo

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  3. Love this.

    "Food is a part of the way my mother shows her support"

    It's amazing how the nourishment of a thoughtfully prepared meal goes beyond vitamins and protein, fats and carbohydrates - but goes to the heart of the person eating.

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  4. Gorgeous post, Lindsey!

    I aspire to be like your mom, like Elizabeth's sister: to know the true meaning of comfort food and to be able to share it with the people I love.

    And, frankly, a casserole sounds good to me on this blustery, wintry day.

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  5. I wish I could be your mother. I want to give my children the comfort and security and just homey feeling that cooking as provision for family must bring. Sadly, I am pathetic in the kitchen. But I'm working on it! I'm starting to see the value, and the beauty of food.

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  6. Absolutely beautiful guest post! Thanks for sharing her with us KW!

    Happy Friday by the way!

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  7. What a beautiful memory. Thank you for sharing it here.

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  8. Lindsey - Thank you for the reminder from Eat, Love, Pray. That is a book I pick up over and over again.

    Truly casseroles/comfort foods are grace. They bring us into a place where we feel safe when safety is not there.

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  9. Great blog! I just stumbled across it. Thanks!

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  10. What a wonderful tribute to her mom. Great writing!

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  11. I loved that scene as well. Perhaps because I, like your mother, am the type to show up with food.

    My own mother always said that food tastes best when you didn't cook it yourself. She spoke, of course, of the beautiful nurture that comes with being served food. And it's true that in times of need such nurture is all the more poignant.

    People have different gifts. Some people have the gift of delivering grace - perfectly chosen words and timing. Others are more practical, but their gifts are just as valid.

    Thanks for a lovely post.

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  12. My mom did this too. It was the best. I would not have survived those first few weeks without her.

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  13. This is so touching and makes me want to call my Mom and tell her she is fabulous. She was never a brilliant chef, but she cooked fresh food for us on a regular basis and always tried to keep it creative and ethnic. The Kitchen Witch ate some bizarre foods at out place a few times in our youth I believe! Thanks for the sweet post. I gotta go call my mum!

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  14. I also associate a similar picture w/ my mom's home. Whenever she comes to visit she always makes a favorite meal, and it makes our apartment feel like a home. Love it, and hope my kids have a similar feeling about me.
    Wonderful post!

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  15. Lindsey, your description of your mother is incredibly touching.

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  16. I love the idea of grace sometimes showing up in the form of a casserole. Sometimes as moms we just need that little help, that dish, that best friend coming over who tidies up the kitchen, especially when we're holding a squalling baby and can't remember when we last took a shower.

    Thanks for a post that's not only a lovely tribute to your mother, Lindsay, but also to TKW.

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  17. I love it b/c it's so true that people show their love in so many different ways!!

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  18. BloginSong: Not bizarre--just adventurous! Although I was stunned to learn you guys toasted your bread in the oven because you didn't own a toaster!!

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  19. Food is often the most nurturing gift a person can give or receive. My mother burned water, but my grandmother fed us straight from her heart. What a wonderful memory this post invokes!

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  20. i think the lady has a new book out. committed?

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  21. This is proof that the way of sustaining bonds with one another, is through the simple grace of sharing a meal together.

    This was an awesome post. Thanks for sharing.

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  22. Wonderful story, I could almost feel the warmth of her mother's kitchen and smell the food cooking in the background.

    Thanks for sharing

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  23. I know just what you mean. When my son (now 22) was a newborn, my hubbie was in Grad school, at night. I was definitely depressed and lonely; the evenings were the worst. Once a week I'd go to eat at my parents where dinners were just how they'd been my whole life. Dragged me thru that winter...

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  24. I know that many of you other readers are Moms and cooks and it touches me to think that you are providing that same comfort to your own children as we speak. Do forget to recognize your own greatness.

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  25. lindsey has a wonderful way with words--this was a delightful read, and i found myself nodding repeatedly. food is indeed a force to be reckoned with. :)

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  26. I also strive to be like your mom when I "grow up". An effortless cook. I like you, also need all the ingredients, measured and ready before I even start the recipe! But I love to cook and I love to entertain and I hope the smells and the thought of me cooking in the kitchen will be a beautiful memory for my kids as well.

    Great post Lindsey!

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  27. What a lovely tribute - I like the line: 'it is a way of expressing the abundance of her love, a way of supporting the spirit by nourishing the body' - I feel like that with my food...it is nice to have someone put it into words...I hope I get to be as good a mum as hers! xxx

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  28. You are so right, she is great! I loved this!!!! Just like you, she communicates what we already know but don't pay attention to...food is so much more than just a meal.

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  29. I hope that in twenty years, when my boys come back home, I am stirring pots and they are relishing the smells that fill my house. I hope that I get a little better at this cooking thing and give them fond memories of home and their mother. I think kids always associate mama with food - whether she's a good cook or a bad cook doesn't matter, the talk is always there. I better get crackin' then. TKW? I'm a-comin' to your house for a weekend seminar!

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  30. I loved this story! Thanks for sharing it.

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  31. Lindsey was a guest on my blog earlier this week and now I'm backtracking to read even more of her delicious essays, this one included.

    Her thoughts bring to mind the warmth and love in Bradbury's Dandelion Wine, about meals and family gatherings.

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