This week, Jessica Herrera made a delicious and thoughtful meal with us. She prepared posole, a dish her late grandmother would always have going on the stove at home. She also brought green and red chile sauces from New Mexico. She shared with us the story and history of this dish in her family, and it involved us emotionally with our food. To taste someone’s family and identity through food is an incredible and personal gift.

Jessica also led us in a discussion around several questions or prompts:

What is the importance in knowing the birthplace/history of your foods? How does knowing this change your perception of them, if at all? As you eat, reflect on how food forms connections. And, do you have a specific comfort food? Is there a specific memory associated? What is comfort food?

Chashu Don

I found it interesting to focus on the last set of questions. Comfort food is different for me than most would expect. Because so much of my life has been spent in a primarily Japanese community, the comfort foods that I remember from my childhood often include salmon onigiri, daikon, futomaki, and chashu don. Those were the foods I remember eating every week, the foods I remember sharing with my friends and family. We would eat shaved ice with red bean and sweetened condensed milk and yakisoba for Bon Odori. For Japanese New Year, we would decorate our temple with the animal of the year and sit down to a giant potluck lunch with the entire community. No one could wait to eat the musubi sushi.

There are also more traditionally “American” foods that I love and find comforting. My Mom makes the most delicious pork chops with apples that I usually ask for on my birthday. It’s my favorite food, and it’s such a good meal at any time of the year, but especially in the fall and winter.

Anglaise-type Cake

My paternal Grandmother mostly makes Italian food when I go to visit. Her father, my great-Grandfather, moved to Rhode Island from Italy as a little boy. He had a vegetable garden where he grew fresh produce for their meals, and handmade bread and pasta. Her mother is a master cook – I still remember Nonna’s gigantic meals that overflowed off the small table in her dining room. My favorite dish from my Grandmother is her meatballs, made by hand and with a number of tricks that make the delicious creation almost impossible to replicate. She also makes amazing cakes and desserts. One year, for my cousin’s and my birthday, she made a Creme Anglaise cake that I think about every time I have a sugar craving.

Comfort food is subjective and seems to be based in what you know – foods that are new or adventurous rarely feel comforting in one’s most vulnerable moments. Sometimes, we just need a taste of home.