Feeding the Multitudes

Hosting family gatherings must be like childbirth: with time, you forget how painful and hard it was.

My mom swears I told her last year I would never have Thanksgiving at my house again. I don’t remember it. I thought we had a glorious time. But, there is a little niggle in the back of my mind that remembers the frustration of trying to work in a small kitchen with too many helpful bodies getting in the way.

Still, as it gets close, I’ve already started my “pre” cooking. I love testing recipes ahead of time. That’s probably part of the problem: I’m exhausted from cooking by the time Thanksgiving arrives.

But I love to feed people. My girls have frequently commented that, “Mom needs to be needed.” Maybe it’s true, but I think it’s more the joy that comes from nourishing, giving sustenance and showing love through something heart-felt. When I owned the coffee shop, patrons told me the food was cooked with love. And that’s true. There’s something very nurturing about the whole experience.

I think what was so frustrating last year is that it didn’t seem worth so much work for 15 minutes of eating. The thing is, once again, it’s not the end result, but the process that matters. My goal in cooking and trying different recipes isn’t to eat. It’s the joy of planning, preparing and cooking that I remember and the process, for me, is the goal.

So, birthing pains forgotten, I’m hosting Thanksgiving again this year. Last night I made a pumpkin roll cake just to see if I liked it. I did. I won’t make another one for the holiday, but I think I just wanted to take the time and nourish myself a bit. And dang, it was worth it.