Why Comfort Food Doesn't Always Work

Today we lost Anthony Bourdain. Watching the coverage I am feeling so sad that another life was lost to suicide.  I selfishly feel sorry for myself that I won’t be able to see any new episodes of his program that was so dynamic and gratifying. I’m even feeling a little jealous of those that got to be his friend, that called him Tony. What an amazing friend that would have been to have. He made us see how important food is, beyond nutrition. He showed us how our culturally distinct cuisine bridges gaps, how the ingredients and method of cooking make us diverse, yet the joy it brings makes us similar. He was one of a kind while showing us that we are not all that different. 

I’ve been thinking about my grandmother since I heard the news about Anthony Bourdain. While their deaths were very different (my grandmother died in a hospital surrounded mostly by people who really loved her after complications of an illness), their lives were similar. They were funny, bold, and enigmatic. My Grandma Lois was the best cook I’ve known, not because she had the best culinary skills on the planet (though she was a dynamo in the kitchen) but because I really loved eating whatever she made, and I loved eating it with her. She was the closest person that I have ever lost, and the last thing I wanted for a long time after she died was comfort food, because she was the queen of comfort food and it just made me downright heartbroken. After time had passed, I was able to make meals like she did and enjoy them with a smile on my face while thinking of her. She is still missed, but she is celebrated through the legacy she left, which for me is mostly in the kitchen. 

So today, while I eat with little appetite, I will make a toast. I will call him Tony, because we could have been friends. I will have dinner without much enthusiasm. I know that I will continue going to different places, eating unfamiliar, delicious foods, and I will be able to do it with a smile thinking about Tony and the influence he had on me and everyone else that had the pleasure of watching him explore, discover, and live. Godspeed, sweetheart!