What Does Food Mean to Me?

For the longest time, I have collected old cookbooks. It started with a love of my mum’s old copy of “Joy of Cooking”. It’s pages were stained and dog-eared, and contained little notes in the margins of improvements she made, or shortcuts she’d discovered. I wanted to borrow it to take to my first apartment so I too could practice the recipes but my mum wouldn’t let it out of the house. So the first Christmas on my own, I was given my own copy. Except it wasn’t really the same. It was brand new, sturdy, and there were no notes to guide me. Since then, I’ve developed an impressive collection of cookbooks – almost all of them old, bought second-hand, with cuttings of old newspapers tucked within the pages, and hand-written notes from women I’ve never met, but who clearly put love and time into their efforts, wanting to make things “just right”. I flip through them not just to find cooking inspiration but because to me, food is all about connection. It connects us to the past, of what life was like when our grandmothers were young or when our country went through times of scarcity. Food helps us connect with others, it transforms times of difficulty into something more comfortable and bearable, and it is something we can provide to others to show our love. Now as a mother, I love connecting with my daughter in the kitchen, hoping that my efforts create memories for her that will someday draw her back to a place of love and learning and comfort.