Comfort Food

Comfort Food

I don’t normally post a meditation on the weekend, but given the date, and the beautiful blue sky outside, I am very much reminded of this day four years ago. That vivid blue served as a poignantly ironic backdrop to the chaos unfolding around me, as I wondered what would become of my beloved city. Today, I am further saddened that New Orleaners face a similar sense of uncertainty and disbelief — but as in New York, those who feed the public are rising to the occasion; for what is food if not a source of comfort?

Though the choice of date was not intentional, I’ve made plans to meet a fellow gourmand for dinner this evening in the East Village — a place where I learned, four years ago, that food can serve as a spiritual balm when the rest of the world is falling apart. And though it took me three years to be able to put such thoughts on paper, I was at last able to write about the experience last year, when I published Comfort Food, capturing the memories of my time at the James Beard House in the days following September 11th. I offer it now in remembrance, and as a reminder of the nourishing power, both physical and spiritual, of food.

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