After All [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Food is the most primitive form of comfort.” ~ Sheilah Graham Westbrook

In anyone’s book, our circumstances at present are extreme. And so, we cook.

My role in the kitchen is sous chef and clean-up. Kerri is the master chef though she is generous and does not require me to address her as “Yes, Chef!” Dogga is the third member of our team. He is an enthusiastic taste-tester and also serves the role of floor clean-up. We are a good team. The simple action of cooking together is large part of our recipe for cooking-up-comfort. We love it.

The actual food that we cook is, of course, a huge part of the comfort infusion. We range from chicken soup to Kerri’s pasta sauce. Lately, we’ve been making grilled cheese sandwiches and, I’ve noticed, recipes that require mashed potatoes. Truthfully, we could probably strip everything else off the plate but the mashed potatoes are the essential. They are the epicenter of comfort. We have in the past made mashed potatoes all-by-themselves and feasted on an intentional mainline of food-cheer.

My theory of comfort food is paradoxical (and obvious). Comfort food takes you back in time. Kerri’s mom made comfort-mashed-potatoes so they are a direct connection to Beaky. Comfort food also drops you into the present moment. The delicious fulfillment of warm expectation. There’s nothing like taste and smell – a happy dance of two senses – to pull everything into the right-here-and-now. And in this moment, wrapped in a yummy warm blanket of tasty comfort, all is well. At least for now. And, in the end, it makes us realize that this bite, this moment, is all that we have. Things are not so bad after all.

right now/right now © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about MASHED POTATOES

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Bring On The Comfort [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Last Tuesday evening we sat on the deck until late. We were in short sleeved shirts. Kerri wore summer shorts. It was an anomaly for late October in Wisconsin. The warm breezes set the chime symphony in motion. It was an evening of low talk and high peace. The Dogga slept on the deck. Hope-the-frog meditated by the pond.

Since then the temperatures have headed south. We are wearing layers, warm socks, and replacing the cotton sheets on the bed for flannel. The quilt has made an appearance. Slippers and Uggs stand at the ready.

And, just like that, it’s soup weather. The return of comfort food. In our cupboard, patiently waiting for this day, is a humungous can of peeled tomatoes. We’ll launch the good boat Comfort with a vat of Joan’s tomato soup. It’s simple and delicious. We’ll bake bread for dipping or to tear and toss like croutons into the soup. It never fails: once the soup is ladled into the bowls, all coherent conversation stops. This soup is that good.

No worries, 20 will help us eat it. With a vat this big, there will be plenty of leftovers (for days).

Comfort: 1) physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint. 2) easing or alleviation of a person’s feelings of grief or distress.

This is some seriously powerful soup. Bring on the comfort!

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOUP!

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