Food made with love tastes like love.
This past weekend, I spent time cooking for a women's retreat I am hosting this Saturday. I usually hire a caterer for my weekend and week-long retreats, but for a day retreat, I love preparing the food myself.
There is something so good about nourishing people with food, especially when they have come together to take time for themselves, slow down, and reconnect.
As I was cooking, I noticed how good I felt inside.
I was feeling energized and happy in my heart. I was thoroughly enjoying the process, and my thoughts drifted back to how I was raised.
My mom cooked everything from scratch. Her food tasted like love. Looking back, I realize how much love went into the meals she prepared for us, although I didn't always appreciate it at the time.
In fact, I remember going through a phase when I wanted the things my friends had. I wanted Wonder Bread and Kraft Dinner, but my mom was making homemade bread and macaroni and cheese from scratch. Funny how that works. What I once wished I had instead is something I now appreciate so much.
Cooking runs in our family. It's in our blood.
My mom's mom, my grandmother, had fifteen children, along with foster children, on a farm. Everything was homemade. When we visited her in the summer, I loved her cooking. Something delicious was always coming out of the kitchen, especially the blueberry pies, and, like my mom's food, it tasted like love.
When I left home, funny enough, I didn't know how to cook. I remember in college, my roommate M.A. and I pretty much lived on popcorn and Kraft Dinner. We'd dress it up with different seasonings and think we were pretty fancy!
Things changed when I moved to Vancouver. I found myself surrounded by people who were really good cooks. They prepared healthy, nourishing, and delicious food, and I began to appreciate not only the ingredients but the care and attention that went into preparing a meal.
I also became aware that it's not just what we put into our food that matters. It's the energy and intention we bring to making it.
Thirty-three years ago, when I was living in Vancouver, I volunteered for much of one summer in the kitchen at Vipassana silent meditation retreats in Washington State. It was a beautiful experience, preparing food for people spending days in silence, meditating and turning inward.
Not only did I learn new recipes and how to cook for larger groups, but I also learned something that has stayed with me all these years.
We were told that if we were experiencing heavier feelings or emotions while working in the kitchen, we should step away, take some time to be with what we were feeling, and then return when we felt ready.
The understanding was that our energy goes into the food we prepare.
I had never really thought about this before. I had certainly never heard anyone talk about it.
But of course. It makes sense.
And this is something I bring into my retreats today. My sister Deb has been catering my retreats for years, and everyone loves, loves, loves her food! It's always so delicious, nourishing, and, of course, made with so much love. We are very conscious of the energy that goes into preparing the food, and we share this with anyone who helps Deb in the kitchen. We feel it’s just as important as the ingredients themselves.
Think about it.
Have you ever been to someone's home for dinner where the food just tastes so good? Or perhaps there is a restaurant you keep returning to because everything about the food feels nourishing and satisfying.
For me, sometimes it's hard to explain. It's more than the taste. There is something you can feel.
I believe love is a frequency, an energy. And when we consciously prepare food with love, care, and presence, we bring something more to the meal than just the ingredients. We bring ourselves.
Perhaps that's why food made with love tastes different. It nourishes more than our bodies. It nourishes something within us.
And maybe this is true of so many things we do in life. It's not just what we do, but the energy and intention we bring.
I still have more food to prepare this week, and I am genuinely looking forward to it. I am looking forward to nourishing these incredible women not only with good food, but with a day filled with connection, soulful practices, and the chance to simply be.
And as I stand in the kitchen preparing everything, I will be thinking of my mom, my grandmother, and all the women before me who expressed their love in such simple, beautiful ways.
With love,
Diane
Photos:
Left: Memories of Mom and Grandma in the kitchen in PEI. Take a look at the fire-burning stove where everything was cooked.
Right: When Grandma was done cooking, she would play a little tune on her harmonica, and we would sing and dance!