We all know that food creates deep knots of emotion. Loss, comfort, guilt, solace, disgust, sensuality: the most memorable meals, the foods we crave, are all tied up with these connections. But over the last few months, there’s one emotion I’ve been hearing from folks at every step of the chain, from farmers to chefs to teachers. These days, it’s one that comes loaded with a pile of corny, cloying advertising campaigns. But lately, locally, it seems sincere, and simple, and almost revolutionary. It’s love.
This isn’t the sort of love that’s guilt-inducing or romantic or even very specific. It’s referring to ideas about how we treat the world we live in, how we communicate with our neighbors, and how we care about producing quality work. It’s about living up to personal standards, and putting in the effort to do things well, without expectations that this effort will be instantly rewarded. Unlike the sort of love that global corporations manipulate to sell us products, this love is about ongoing responsibility, not grand gestures.
I once had to fulfill a food-related obligation to a person I didn’t much like. The obligation resulted in me baking a complex, time-consuming dessert; I was grumpy and resentful for most of the process, and (not surprisingly) it didn’t turn out well at all. Since then, I’ve learned it’s better to not cook than to cook with resentment. And what I’ve been thinking lately is that in an ideal world, food and resentment don’t ever come in contact.
That’s easier said than done—we all have bad days, missed deadlines, stressful lives, overcooked dinners. The processes of farming, marketing and cooking don’t always go well, and love isn’t a surefire cure for everything that’s wrong with the world, or even everything that’s wrong with a bad sandwich. But I hear farmers talking about their commitment to land stewardship. I see a chef laughing and gesturing about the gentle pats needed to form a great burger. I have a teacher remind me, with a smile, that love really is important when baking a pie. I remember how true this is, and decide that this isn’t just a build-up of serotonin from our sunny summer.
Whatever holidays you celebrate this winter, I hope there’s love—and good food—to spare. If there is, remember to spread some around.
-Jill Lightner