Memories, Food and Love

Sniff sniff, yes, I'm a sniffer.  I believe my super power to be my sense of smell, a cold for me is like death.  I tend to have many olfactory memories, some bad but most of them good and most of them are tied to food because if anything food is, well, smelly.  Or aromatic, depends on who is cooking and what is being cooked.  Most importantly, food is not something we need merely for bodily nourishment but something that we need for our souls.  


Think about it, no milestone, accomplishment, holiday, celebration or event happens without food.  Birthday parties, anniversaries, graduation, promotion, wedding, Christmas, 4th of July, Easter and many others wouldn't be the same if it weren't for food.  I mean, there is a holiday where you give thanks by making a bounty of food!  And that is just the joyous and fun occasions (I know you are wondering what's fun and joyous about the stress and dysfunction of family together at a holiday but you say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to). And what happens when someone passes away?  We serve food after the service and we bring food to the most bereaved.  Someone lost their job?  Let me take you out to eat and get your mind off of it.  Dumped?  What flavor of ice cream is your favorite?


Food is also a way to show appreciation as DH and I recently did by giving our neighbors a pan of brownie/cookie bars (don't ask, DH made them) to the neighbors for shoveling our walk (which prompted them to do it again!), care by bringing chicken soup to a sick friend or nurture when our mom makes us our favorite meal or we cook for our loved ones.


If you stop to remember your favorite event or holiday (or any good time for that matter) or person, you will most likely remember the food involved.  For years I have remembered a dish made by the mother of a dear person and friend, Patrick Blessing.  Mary Catherine Blessing is famous in my mind for making BBQ meatballs.  Yes, you read correctly, BBQ meatballs.  The first Merriman formal I ever went to was the house formal in February 1997, when I was a freshman.  My friend Mel and I had been "dieting" all week by eating only cereal, Lucky Charms to be exact, cause we wanted to look extra cute in our formal dresses (and we did, I have the pics to prove it) so by the time we made it to the party I was starving.  


When I entered the house this wonderful aroma drifted towards me and led me to this crock pot filled to the brim with a wonderful concoction, the BBQ meatballs.  Mind you, I had only moved from Costa Rica two years prior and this dish was something that I had never encountered in my life.  After having a few (trying to restrain myself) and licking sauce off my lips, I asked how this group of guys was so lucky to have had someone make this and found out who was behind it.  I must confess that throughout the night I had my fair share and I believe I visibly pouted when I went back to the crock pot one final time to find that it was devoid of meatballs.  For years I wanted to ask Pat if he could get this recipe for me from his mom but was too shy (hold back your snorts) to do it.  DH will back up the fact that I have talked about these meatballs repeatedly throughout the years (as he agreeably nods his head and mutters "um-hmm, I remember" and probably thinks "when will she shut up about these meatballs?"), especially when we have come across similar concoctions that just don't measure up.


Now that we no longer have Pat with us the meatballs are so much more special to me than before.  When I think of the meatballs, they bring back memories of him and all the good times we had including a memorable moment when Mama and Papa Ruiz were having a cookout to celebrate Los' graduation (see??? food.) and while Mama Ruiz and I were going on about something or other Pat asks with a huge smile mixed with bewilderment: "Jen, you speak Puerto Rican?", my answer as I laughed: "Yes Pat, I speak Spanish".


So last night I decide, I'm making these meatballs.  No recipe, no nothing, just going for it.  Today, our crock pot is full of BBQ meatballs.  Are they as good as Mary Catherine's?  Not really, but all day long the smell and taste of them have brought me memories of a loved friend, made me smile and most importantly reminded me of what love means.  Back then it meant a mother nurturing her child, his brothers, friends and guests.  Today it means we miss you but you live on through our thoughts, memories, your wonderful wife and adorable baby girl and... through BBQ meatballs.