Let’s talk about one of my favorite subjects — food.

Now before you start thinking it’s not the best topic for a column, let’s think about the role food plays in our lives every day, and I mean beyond the fact that we need to eat to survive.

What do we do when someone dies? We start cooking to send food to feed the family and those who will come to pay their respects. We even make sure we send dishes that can be frozen so those in grief won’t have to worry about cooking any time soon.

We celebrate birthdays with cake and ice cream. In fact, we have cakes at just about every celebratory event on the calendar these days.

We share coffee and danish or sandwiches with new friends and co-workers.

If we are fortunate enough to have friends from far away places who come to visit, one of the most important things we do is take them to our favorited watering hole to check out our local delicacies. Cheerwine and Lexington barbecue are famous in large part because every time guests come in from elsewhere, we take them to get Cheerwine and barbecue.

Sad movies? A pint of Ben and Jerry’s best. Funny movies? A bucket of popcorn or a box of thin mints. Too tired? Coffee. Too awake? Chamomile tea. Upset tummy? Ginger cookies.

The list goes on and on. Food is essential well beyond our need to fuel our bodies.

I myself grew up at a grandmother’s elbow who was a natural in the kitchen, one of those people who intuitively know what flavors work together. And as the grandchild, she didn’t mind having me in her way because she wasn’t in the daily stress of being mom and wife and moving the household forward. She had time by then. So I learned to cook by watching and helping her.

The one downside of that was I don’t have recipes for most things that I cook from her. I know exactly what it should look like and taste like, but I can’t give you measurements.

Unless it is baking, and she always told me, “baking is a science, and you need to follow a basic recipe.” It didn’t mean you couldn’t play around with it, but the basics needed to be correct.

Almost every cake I make from scratch starts with her traditional pound cake. I can change the flavor, but the cake itself is the same one. And sometimes it’s just the icing that makes the difference. And every single member of my family loves that cake. No store bought cakes will do for us.

Potato soup is something I make not only when I or someone in the family is ill, but for others, because it’s a simple, four-ingredient soup that is just a broth and thin-sliced potatoes.

There were recipes I learned in Connecticut that are markedly different from things we cook here in the South, and there are things I learned from a life-long dear friend from Puerto
Rico that were game-changing. Fried plaintains were immensely challenging — I actually threw a full batch away I was so frustrated — but once I got it down, it became a favorite.

I am fortunate to have an adventurous husband when it comes to appetite, because he is always willing to try whatever new concoction I’m trying. And most of the time, we’re both happy with the outcome.

He’s also willing to try things one more time that he, historically, has not liked.

For instance, sweet potatoes are not his thing. But I have a sweet potato casserole that I make around Thanksgiving that I convinced him to try. The sweet potatoes are parboiled, peeled and sliced thin, then topped with a custard. A mixture of brown sugar and pecans go on top, then it’s baked.

There are never leftovers of that, and Jim loves it.

None of the family was excited about Brussels sprouts. Tiny cabbages? No thanks, they said. Until I cut them in half, put them cut side down on a pan of melted butter and olive oil, sprinkled on seasoning salt and let them caramelize. Suddenly I was hearing “these are almost like candy.”

When Jim and I traveled to the southern portion of
Italy quite a few years ago, the woman we stayed with had no other guests at her B&B that week. She taught cooking classes, which we didn’t know, and she offered to teach me to make her pasta sauce.

As you can guess, no more jarred sauce for us. I couldn’t believe how simple it was and how much flavor comes out of that mixture of tomatoes, basil, garlic, sugar and yes, butter.

Even here in our office, food is one of the ways we connect. Every Friday is bagel Friday, complete with cream cheese. There are homemade treats, cookies in the cookie jar, and this time of year, often ice cream in the freezer. We have flavored coffees and cream in the fridge.

Food is a way of showing care, affection, even humor. It’s something we can share with others joyfully. It’s a way to express creativity. It’s a form of creation, of art in many ways.

Food unites us, lets us appreciate and enjoy our differences and makes us willing to try things new to us.

At the end of the day, food is a comfort, at least to me. It takes me back to Gammy’s kitchen, where it smelled like I hope heaven does, and where, no matter how bad my day was, I was going to find something that made my tummy and my heart happy. There was love in that kitchen always. Come sit at my table any time.

Elisabeth Strillacci is the editor of the Salisbury Post.