Cooking with Love

Over the course of more than thirty-five years in ministry, I gathered a solid base of knowledge on the institution of marriage. I’ve read what the experts say about marriage, and I’ve done my fair share of marriage counseling as well. And, I’ve been married for thirty-nine years to the same man – that has to count for something.

One of the psychological marriage gurus is John Gottman, who researched marriages for years. He teaches couples to enhance their love maps, nurture their fondness and admiration, turn toward each other instead of away, accept the influenced of the partner, solve their solvable problems, overcome gridlock, and create shared meaning. Gotta get that love map going! He believes that a harsh start-up and continued negativity such as criticism and contempt can sound the death knell for marriages. Others suggest that problems with communication, sex, and money are common causes of marriage failure as well.

But the experts are missing the boat. One issue looms large in the health of a marriage. How many marital difficulties could be resolved by successfully answering one question each day: “What’s for supper?”

Unlike my mother, who didn’t work outside the home after her children were born, almost all of my peers arrive home at about the same time as their husbands. Even on the days I work from home, dinner planning is not the first check-off on my to-do list. I’ve tried writing out menus for the week but haven’t been disciplined enough to follow through. I’ve suggested we take turns in meal preparation, but the decision-making as to the menu remains on my plate. If our young adult sons are home for supper, I want to cook something they like, so have been known to change the choice of food for them. Yes, even though they’re fine with fixing something else, I spoil them as much as I do the lovely Madelyn Simone.

Don’t worry about starvation hitting our home. We do manage to eat every night, a bit more of a challenge now that my fallback, the A&W, is closed for the season. But there’s a more serious complaint in my house. My entire family agrees: I don’t cook with love like Grandma does. I’d rather finish a writing project than start a meal. I get distracted from what I’m doing, and before I know it, the meat for the stew is setting off the smoke detector. Even the chocolate chip cookies aren’t safe, as I never could convince my kids they were supposed to crunch.

Their idea of cooking with love isn’t what Harriet van Horne suggests: “Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” No, my family’s definition of cooking with love has more to do with Barbara Costikyan’s words: “In the childhood memories of every good cook, there’s a large kitchen, a warm stove, a simmering pot and a mom.” Cooking with love in my house means that I stay in the kitchen and give food preparation the time it needs and deserves. To plead my case, I remind them that Betty Crocker is a figment of our imagination, and Rachael Ray earns enough money to have household help. Even Florence Brady of the Brady Bunch had Alice by her side, but I don’t get much sympathy in that department.

I laugh with my family about my lack of preparation and concentration, but I still value the shared meal, whether with family or as we welcome friends to our table. Laurie Colwin puts it into perspective for me: “The table is a meeting place, a gathering ground, the source of sustenance and nourishment, festivity, safety, and satisfaction. A person cooking is a person giving. Even the simplest food is a gift.”

The question of what we’re eating for supper will continue to be asked in our house, and it’s unlikely I’ll reach the gold standard of “cooking with love” like grandma anytime soon. But my hope is that those who share a meal in our home might experience the table fellowship of reunion and communion that will atone for any deficiencies emanating from my kitchen. Bon appétit!