Homemade Life

I love to feed people. (Funny that I don't love to host parties, I would not even say I like to host parties, since usually parties involve food). Lots of people have written about this subject, food, what we eat, where it comes from, etc. The book I am currently reading "Homemade Life" is all about the stories of particular recipes. Just as every life is a story waiting to be told, every meal should be, too. Unfortunately, in our fast food world that is not always the case, BUT, wouldn't it be great if it was. We'd all be a little healthier for it, I'm sure.
After pulling a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and cleaning my food processor from a batch of pesto this morning, I pulled a loaf of bread out of the fridge to make 5 sandwiches. I don't typically feed 5 for lunch, but on Wednesdays my Dad comes over for lunch and we have a friend working on our basement remodel and Sean was coming home for lunch, add Willis and I and you have 5 sandwiches. All 5 were a little bit different, Willis didn't want meat on his, my Dad likes basil, Sean likes pickles, I don't like mustard, etc....and as I smiled preparing them, I pondered why there is so much joy in feeding people. All I can come to is that it feels like some offering, some gift with no expectation of something in return, and truly aren't those the best gifts to give. It is this basic need we all have, to be fed, in more ways than one...through our bellies, our hearts, our minds, our spirits....and somehow when I feed people, it feels like giving them a little bit of soul food. I suppose the other piece of this is the opportunity to sit with people and share, a meal, a story, your day.
Often times when I am nursing my daughter, I watch her little body relax, her eyes close and feel her breath start to deepen. Something about food, from the time we are little, must be a source of comfort. Maybe it's the full belly, maybe it's the being together, whatever it is, I'll keep feeding those I can, enjoying my homemade life.