The Fullness of a Hungry Heart

Posted by Brooke | November 22, 2008 | 30 Comments

Last week my porch turned into a cornucopia. Or a landing spot for manna. Or some type of hasty food bank, or magical snack bar, or restaurant counter where the platters cue up under heat lamps. (Here I feel like there should be a specific word for what it’s called when food appears on your porch. There isn’t. I know because I Googled it and mostly found listings detailing Bruce Springsteen’s appearance at a food bank in the Twin Cities. But I don’t know what any of that has to do with my porch because I live nowhere near the Twin Cities. (Unless the Twin Cities have something to do with the enchanted mesh of the Provo/Orem utopia. In which case, why would Bruce be there? For the Stadium of Fire? Eight months early? Isn’t his only song Born in the U.S.A.?) (Upon further Googling I find he has waaaay more songs than Born in the U.S.A., including one entitled Candy’s Room and another called Hungry Heart. So maybe he is relevant here.) Anyway…

I’m talking food here.

And I need to focus.)

Last week, each time I opened my front door, there was something there, waiting, tented under shiny foil, fragrant, freshly baked, and just for me.

When my name arrives on a card (attached to shiny foil coverings), I take it seriously. If the goodies are for me, then heaven help me, I’m going to eat them. I’m going to share of course, but I’m also going to eat. A lot.

And so I did.

If I kept anything resembling a food journal (I’d be ten pounds thinner no doubt, but also:) last week’s detailing would go something like this:

14 cinnamon rolls dalloped with thick cream cheese icing
1 dozen chocolate chip cookies
4 extra-large sugar cookies with piped on buttercream
A plateful of mint brownies donning a spicy green layer
Several (Greater than 5 but less than or equal to 10) chocolate covered Asian pears
A bouquet of strawberries in an orange-footed pot (No, I didn’t eat the pot. Luckily. Because it’s really cute.) And,
9×9 inches of swirled chocolate cake, its chocolate chips still gooey and warm.

Later this would include creamy soups and scalloped potatoes, a homey meatloaf, homemade noodles, the treats an anachronistic prelude to the dinners—the suggestion that the longer I went without seeing people, the more depressed they assumed I was, and the more elaborate the offering.

They were a little bit right, about that depression bit. But a new sensation began to take over the sorrow:

I was full.

And I can’t help but wonder over the inspiration to the deed—did they know I would be so empty? Did they know I would need filling? Because the food fills a profound new space I discovered almost two weeks ago—that place in my belly where a baby was growing. The place that was still tiny, but more full than I could’ve imagined. The place that’s now empty, when “the baby went away” (so we tell our kids) when I started to miscarry at nine weeks.

But more than that, it fills a place in my heart that cracked open that day—it fills a place that needed mending, and it fills it to overflowing with an abiding and humbling knowledge: my neighbors and friends are just waiting to love me. And in loving me this way, they know something that I know too—food for the body is food for the soul. And I wonder if (and hope that) when Jesus is called the Bread of Life, maybe that imagery suggest the literal as well: the necessity of a carbohydrate loaf for spiritual survival. Because I think the coupling of both, together—spiritual and physical, emotional and emotional—is a sort of twined sustenance that seems to fix broken everything in one fell swoop.

But I might just be saying this because I’m so full.

I am a good friend to a few who think that those in need could just order a pizza or whip together powdery packets of mac’n’cheese. I’ve heard of people getting specific food requests when asked to bring a meal; I’ve heard of recipients grouchy over lack of awareness toward their singular dietetic restraints and later publicly complaining over the meals offered.

And that just makes me sad.

So I wonder, how do we treat this tradition of our sisterly need to feed with our womanly need to complain? (And did I just say that?) Why do we insist on making a meal worthy of Sunday best—crisp greens on the side, a fancy dessert—when someone who suffers could just as easily make toast, eat cold cereal? Are there a lot of people out there who feel resentful when the request to feed an additional family is presented? Or is the lack of eagerness for the tradition relegated to just a few of my cohorts alone?

As for me, I love taking meals to people. I always use it as an excuse to get away from making grilled cheese with a side of sliced apples, although I am still simple in my offerings: chicken tortilla soup, corn chowder, bbq pork, brownies. In other words, you’ll never get gravy from me, and sometimes I forget a salad all together.

On purpose.

Because when you’re sad, who wants veggies when you could have an additional lemon cupcake?

And who wants to eat a sandwich alone when you could eat a feast made with the intent purpose of serving you, of filling you with love?

But even more, I wonder most about this:

When you’re asked to bring dinner, what meal do you make?

And spare me no details, ladies; go overboard—I’m all about being full (of life and food and adjectives) these days…

Category: Daily Special

Comments

30 Responses to “The Fullness of a Hungry Heart”

hungry
November 22nd, 2008 @ 7:47 am

The last meal I made for someone…

Creamy artichoke pasta with sun-dried tomatoes and chicken
bruchetta
three berry salad with dressing

Sorry. I didn’t go overboard with the adjectives.
Brooke
November 22nd, 2008 @ 8:24 am

still… sounds yummy.
jendoop
November 22nd, 2008 @ 8:34 am

You know when they say the church is the same everywhere you go? Well it’s not true. The church is true, don’t get me wrong here. But the functional level of my inner city branch is a seemingly insurmountable distance from my, what seems now, glorious ward in Colorado.

In the 2 1/2 years since living here I have never been asked to take a meal to someone. Not that there aren’t needs, but that there isn’t organization. Our relief society limps along on broken crutches of illiteracy, neediness and miscommunication (Spanish/English).

I miss taking meals, I miss it dearly (I would bring you an apple galette). I repent of every time I complained about getting chicken, broccoli, rice casserole. I regret not taking enough corn chowder to a sister who just had a baby. I’m sorry for the time I took a dinner but no dessert because I didn’t have time to bake brownies.

When I had my daughter 18 months ago somehow (MIRACLE!) the RS did get meals to us. Before I had Baby I thought it was entirely unnecessary, my fam could eat pizza and leftovers for two days. Then I had baby and she was put into the NICU. Going back and forth to the hospital to pump every 3 hours, it was all I could do to keep myself alive, let alone concern myself with the care of the rest of my brood. Those meals meant so much more to me than food. I knew when I ate a meal that it was more than just a meal, balanced in nutrition but overflowing with love. Perhaps by eating such love my baby would grow healthier, stronger because she would know what love awaited her in this world.

What would I make now to take to someone? Homemade rolls, herb roasted chicken and rice, a glorious fruit salad and redeem myself by taking two pans of brownies.
girlsmama
November 22nd, 2008 @ 9:19 am

My favorite to take is baked ziti, warm garlic bread, vegetables, and what ever dessert strikes my fancy. I also always include paper plates, plastic flatware, and cups. Because who wants to wash the dishes?
ClistyB
November 22nd, 2008 @ 9:20 am

Pei Wei takeout, Cold Stone and a lavish gift they never would buy themselves. I get nervous cooking for others.
I will never ever forget the (super hectic)day I delivered a meal to a gal who had surgery on her spine. I arrived to see her dancing around the kitchen baking skads of cookies.
What else could I do but laugh?
Natalie
November 22nd, 2008 @ 9:53 am

I love taking food to people, but I always am simple on the offering. I tend to get stressed out as my time to delivery fast approaches! I love doing crockpot meals. It gives me an opportunity to focus on a few other side dishes (salad or veggie, and ALWAYS dessert). My two favorite easy crockpot meals are french dip sandwiches and chicken tortilla soup. It’s simple, I know, but it hopefully warms their heart and home and it definitely puts a bounce in my step!
dalene
November 22nd, 2008 @ 9:57 am

Lovely post Brooke. Thank you. And I’ve written here before about how I feel about this because I am saddened when people say things like “Well, she has teenagers. They can cook.”

We do this because we can. And whatever we can do should be done with love, because that is the part that fills.

Sometimes I’m in a place where I can cook the best recipes. Sometimes I’m in a place where the best I can do is order pizza. I’ve never had anyone complain (at least not to my face).

But when one of my best friend’s daughter died (her daughter was my friend, too), I went for the comfort food: Chicken Pot Pie and Sour Cream Lemon Pie. Homemade.

I had a big hole in my heart and while I knew that hole paled next to the wide chasm of grief in the hearts of this entire family, I felt the need to fill something by giving them the most comforting food I could think of.

Even though I knew none of them felt like eating.

(But whatever I bring I always bring it in disposable dishes. I know they’re not pretty, but if I’m trying to help someone out the last thing I want to do is give them dishes to wash and return.)
Amira
November 22nd, 2008 @ 10:36 am

This isn’t a typical take-to-someone-else meal, but the last meal I did was for a friend you loves Indian food. So I made her fish grilled with coconut milk and turmeric, stir-fried vegetables, Bangla style, basmati rice, and rice flour cookies. She loved it.

When my last baby was born, we got a pasta salad for one of our meals and it was perfect since we could eat it when we wanted and it had lots of good stuff in it. So I’ve started doing that and making foccacia to go with it.

In my last ward though, I was never assigned to bring a meal; it was almost all voluntary, as was nearly everything in that ward. It worked for us.
Jill Shelley
November 22nd, 2008 @ 11:02 am

I like this subject. I find the simpler I do the more they seem to appreciate it. I also ALWAYS bring my meal in disposable pans so they won’t have to worry about washing and returning.
FoxyJ
November 22nd, 2008 @ 11:18 am

It changes every time–I don’t have anything specific I like to bring. It’s usually something vegetarian since that’s what we like to eat. I love to cook for people so that’s how I show love. I’ve stopped sharing baked goods spontaneously over the last few years, probably because I know so many people on restricted diets that I feel like I’m the only one who still likes to eat treats. That’s been hard for me because food is how I show love, and I know a lot of people with food issues that don’t want my gift.

Dalene, your comment made me cry a little. About six years ago my brother-in-law died suddenly. Less than a few hours later food started showing up at my sis-in-law’s house (dh’s sister). None of us wanted to eat, but it was nice for a week while we had tons of people there to have some food on hand. Probably the best thing in that situation was a bunch of fixings fo sandwiches (rolls, cold cuts, cheese, chips, etc) that we could eat as we needed. I think the “funeral lunch” is a great tradition because it lets you have time to sit down as a family and decompress after a difficult time.
Becky
November 22nd, 2008 @ 11:43 am

Just a lovely post. The last time I took a meal it was Ina Gartin’s macaroni and cheese made with cavatappi pasta, bits of bacon and guerrere cheese with a green salad and apple turnovers.
McCrazy
November 22nd, 2008 @ 11:53 am

I love, love, love when a wonderful RS sister brings my family a meal. There’s something about eating food that someone prepared for you out of kindness and concern. Nothing tastes better than that.

My visiting teachers brought me an incredible spaghetti dinner with all the fixin’s when I had my daughter 5 months ago. This spaghetti sauce was homecooked (probably all day long), with sausage. You could just taste all the fat in it. Oh man, was it comfortable. I had another lady just bring me one of those boxed dinners “Homestyle Bakes” four years ago when I had my first. We loved it!

The last thing I made was homemade pizza and garlic bread sticks.

I also agree with FoxyJ, I remember after my Grandmother’s funeral all these nameless, unknown people quietly bustling around the cultural hall. Food galore. Enough for all of them to eat also, but they didn’t. I don’t remember what we ate but I remember those people. What a gift they gave us that day.
Carina
November 22nd, 2008 @ 11:53 am

The last meal I made were runzas, a meat and cabbage mixture stuffed into dough with cheese and then baked (like a really good Hot Pocket.) I try to make something special, something that connects with the receiver. In the case of the runzas, they are a regional food from where my friend grew up.

For you? I would have made fresh fish tacos with all the sides in containers and made sure to include a giant coconut cake.
eljee
November 22nd, 2008 @ 12:06 pm

I make something different every time. I don’t get asked to take meals very often. They say it’s because they want to first go to the visiting and home teachers, then to the person’s closer neighbors. I miss taking meals. It’s something I really enjoy.

I love this idea that taking food is about more than just the physical need, but that this physical gesture fills emotional needs. We’ve adopted both of our children, and in both cases our wards have showered us with food. There would be some who would say that it’s not a “need”, as I had not given birth and was not physically recuperating. Honestly, there WAS a physical need, as we were utterly exhausted. But the far more important thing was the emotional need, the need to have my motherhood acknowledged, the need to be honored and pampered in that way. So I think sometimes we can be too stingy with the word “need”. I’m grateful for wards who weren’t stingy and just showered us with love in a very physical way, because I know it’s not like that everywhere.
m&m
November 22nd, 2008 @ 1:23 pm

I have a saying that it is NOT about the food when we do things like this. Thank you for a beautiful reminder of what this service is all about.

(I usually do some sort of pasta. — My favorite is with a homemade spinach and tomato sauce, or with our favorite pesto.)
m&m
November 22nd, 2008 @ 1:30 pm

And Brooke, I just want to send hugs your way. I’m sorry for your loss.
mormonhermitmom
November 22nd, 2008 @ 1:34 pm

I love simple but nutritious crock pot meals, both to give and receive. Some people may not think taking a meal to someone is a big deal, but I know a woman who had her fourth baby in a ward far away from family members – and no help came. Nothing. Talk about feeling lonely and isolated – she was glad to move. I may not be able to take a fancy meal, but when asked, I take one. It really makes a difference.
Kalli
November 22nd, 2008 @ 2:03 pm

i would like you all as my neighbors!!

for me it’s homemade chx noodle soup, noodles and all! rolls,homemade jam, and some brownies. always good, always filling, and you can eat it for DAYS.

i heart you
brooke
November 22nd, 2008 @ 4:08 pm

can you all be my neighbors?
Kel
November 22nd, 2008 @ 6:02 pm

I make “What Doesn’t Kill You…” soup – chicken, carrot, rice, HEAPS of garlic that goes sweet witht the long cooking, celery, herbs, the gorgeous shimmer of butter on the top…. cures everything, or at least distracts you from everything while you eat it.

Hot dinner rolls to eat with the soup, with more butter.

Brownies, chocolate cake or something baked for dessert, made with real butter and real vanilla essence.

Food made with butter tastes better. Food given tastes best. =)
shelah
November 22nd, 2008 @ 6:48 pm

after my oldest was born, someone brought me dinner, along with a whole batch of peanut butter and M&M cookies. I couldn’t get enough of them– I stood at the kitchen counter and ate and ate and ate. They were SO good. So now, whenever I bring someone dinner, I also try to bring a dessert that they won’t be able to get enough of.

And if they have kids, I usually try to do at least one thing that my kids would eat if the food showed up on our doorstep.

I’m sorry for your loss Brooke and really appreciated this post!
Kea
November 23rd, 2008 @ 11:02 am

To the author of the post (I’m new and can’t tell who wrote it) and the others who mentioned losing someone dear to them, I am sorry for your loss.

I LOVE getting meals from the sisters. I like trying the new dishes and seeing what it is that they have decided would be beneficial to us. It’s a secret kind of way to get to know a sister in your ward. And, if you keep a journal of who brought what, when it’s your turn to give, you can glean some insight as to what type of meal THEY would enjoy receiving.

Many years ago, by Bishop taught my DH and me a great lesson. He said, “If you refuse the service, you are not only refusing the blessings for yourself, but you are refusing the blessings for those who would provide that service to you.”

Since then, we have made it a standard that whenever we are expected to receive service (like when we have a new baby) or are just offered service we accept it fully. We never, NEVER want to deprive anyone of the blessings they need or want when they choose to serve.

With that said, I just had my fourth baby 3 weeks ago today by emergency c-section. I had already talked with my RS president, who is also my VT, before going in to the hospital (it was a scheduled induction) and asked for the meals to be brought starting the day after I got home since I knew that I wouldn’t get home until very late that night. I called her again on our way home from the hospital, because with the emergency c-section, I was under doctor’s orders to do nothing but take care of me and this new baby for the six-weeks recuperation period. They are worried about me because they had a hard time stopping the bleeding during the surgery and really don’t want me to end up in the hospital again because I tore ope the incision.

I hadn’t heard whether the meals were going to be done or not so when I called her on Thurs (I came home Wed night), she told me she had completely forgotten. I didn’t realize how much those meals meant to me as a simple expression of caring from the sisters and as a help since I couldn’t cook myself. Taking the physical task of a mother from her does nothing to alleviate the need to know that the task will be done and by whom.

I wanted to cry, but then I realized that she is human too and that mistakes need to be looked over. (She forgot because she had to work 3-4 days in a row for 8-10 hours a day (she’s a nurse) which is a lot more than she is used to working…she usually works 2-3 days a week for about 8 hours each day.)

Anyway the oversight was not intentional and so she had a meal for us on Fri. My other VT had a meal for us on Sat.

We were not sure if there would be any more meals so I called the CS leader. She told me that my step-mother (SM) had told everyone that I did not need or want the meals so there were none planned.

I live with my father and step-mother right now and she is of the old school thinking that you give service but do not ask for or accept service, and she was embarrassed because she felt like others were judging her because she was perfectly capable of cooking for our family. And it’s true, she could have cooked for us, but she doesn’t like to cook for my family because my children are “picky and ungrateful for what she chooses to make for them” and she also has the responsibility of doing all the housework (cooking, cleaning, bending, and lifting) that I cannot do right now, helping me with my other three children with their everyday affairs, and had to care for my second child who caught the flu 2 days after her brother was born while my DH was out working.

I was willing to let it go and not pursue getting the meals, but the CS leader, with so much love in her voice, said, “We are here to take care of you. We want to take care of you. Let us take care of you.” I could not refuse that request and so accepted meals for another 5 days. Within 2 hours she called me back and had a list of sisters who would bring me meals.

This is what I received:
~ American Chop Suey
~ Chili w/ cornbread and brownies and ice cream
~ Pizza Hut Pepperoni Lovers and Supreme pizzas w/ bread sticks
~ American Chop Suey w/ tossed salad
~ Chicken Cacciatore with steamed white rice
~ A pasta casserole that tasted like stuffed manicotti
~ White chicken chili w/ Monterrey Jack cheese and cornbread

The last meal that I helped provide (in our college ward, 3-4 sisters get together to provide one meal – it helps split the cost of the meal and everyone gets more of an opportunity to serve), I made homemade lasagna, while the others made a tossed salad, garlic bread and chocolate cake brownies (brownies so moist and thick they are more like a cake).
Rachelle
November 23rd, 2008 @ 6:52 pm

The last few weeks I have made more apple pies than any sane nonbaker would dream. I really came to hate those apples, except when I made pies for one of the ladies I visit teach and later for a family whose father just returned from cancer surgery. Those were sweet cooking moments when I knew I was baking warm, flaky, cinnamon-infused joy.
A year ago I was really sick and meals and babysitting from my ward sisters saved me. I always want to be on the giving end now. I remember how great it was to receive in my need.
justine
November 23rd, 2008 @ 9:16 pm

After my surgery of this summer, I had women at my house for every lunch and every dinner for almost 5 weeks. It was emotionally overwhelming, especially as I realized how many of the women were suffering themselves from something or other.

I almost couldn’t take it, but was reminded by the Spirit many times that we are here to take care of each other and I had no right to deny these women that opportunity.

It was a powerful experience for me.

I have friends who, on random occasions show up with dinner. I’ve tried doing it a few times, too. No apparent need, no call from the Relief Society, just random dinner to random friend. Pretty fun.
wendy
November 23rd, 2008 @ 10:01 pm

This was lovely, Brooke. I’m sad for your loss. I’m glad you were filled.

The meal I have most often taken to people is take-out pizza. Last time we included ice cream. I have also taken shepherd’s pie once, and barbeque ribs once. I forget the few others. I’m typically embarrassed about whatever comes out of my kitchen (except for a fabulous flourless chocolate cake, my sil’s potato recipe, and desserts in general), so it’s always a little taxing to make meals for people. I like the idea, but I really struggle to figure out what to do. Meal prep is not among my talents. I’m going to have to go back and read what others have listed.
kannie
November 24th, 2008 @ 12:05 am

We team up in our ward; one of us brings a main dish, and one a salad/side. What I bring really depends on the time I have – there are chicken enchiladas (yes, Glad disposable casserole dishes are a MIRACLE), a pizza braid, or – last time – some of those frozen chicken cordon bleu things that only take half an hour to bake, and a Peanut Butter Cup mini-cake… (thank you, Wilton!!!)

Sorry for your loss; you’ve got a huge community of support, and you’re definitely not alone… *healing prayers*
lee
November 24th, 2008 @ 8:28 am

A very good post and discussion. Brooke, I hope things get better in your world.

I have had the experience of receiving meals from people who had bigger problems than mine. After you get over the guilt, it just makes you love them to pieces.

I have also had the experience of losing a sister and having the doorbell ring again and again, flowers and food, flowers and food. At a very raw time, it was a salve for all the “why” questions of an untimely death. People were good, the world was not hostile, things were going to be okay. There was so much meaning there that had nothing to do with eating.

The same is true of when someone has a baby. Its a time when I am acutely aware of love, holiness, eternity, and the purpose of life. When the food arrives, it affirms all those things in a tangible way.

I know I’ve had more than 15 meals brought to me over the years. I wonder if I’ve taken that many yet. Its not that I’m keeping score –I’m just marveling at the perpetual motion of the give and take in the gospel.
Charlotte's Daughter
November 24th, 2008 @ 3:13 pm

I am really amazed at all the things you gals cook. I am feeling pretty lame with my usual baked spaghetti meal. I love getting food from people. I love eating something I haven’t cooked, it tastes so much better. But really I think it is just about how it makes me feel. I love that people are thinking of me. I know cooking for eachother is sometimes the only thing we can think of to do when someone is going through a hard experience.

After the birth of my second daughter a girl from my ward called to see if she could bring me something. She wasn’t asked, she just did it on her own initiative. I was so touched by that I have “tried” to remember to do that when I notice someone is having a hard time. I try not to wait to be asked.
Mommom
November 24th, 2008 @ 7:53 pm

Umm… Baked Spaghetti wouldn’t be considered lame in my home – not by a long shot. My middle son would especially adore you I believe.

Maybe I don’t need to worry though about a family having lasagna too many times if I’m bringing in a meal??? I haven’t brought lasagna in forever to make sure they didn’t have it even twice. After reading through the replies I’m beginning to think lasagna is going the way of the meals to take dinosaur.

As far as things I’ve taken? Chicken Crescent Rolls, Chicken Pot Pie, Enchiladas – and now I’ve got a few other casseroles that I’d go to… and always brownies. I know.. I’ll avoid lasagna, but take Brownies, but I love these brownies and when I want a pick-me-up I make them, so it’s what I think of taking to someone when I’d like to give them the same.
Sarab
December 3rd, 2008 @ 10:49 am

Brooke, this post is an answer to my prayers. I have been so conflicted about moving to Utah. I just love, love, love, my ward here in California so dearly that I have been worried I wouldn’t find the same kind of bonding in Utah. I feel your wards love for you through your writing. I get the same sense of belonging and friendship that I have felt here. This is truly an answer to my prayers. Thank you Thank you.

The meal that I always take is pretty boring. It’s a chicken casserole with rolls and brownies. But for your I would make some of my butternut squash soup and chess pie for dessert. I can’t wait to move there!