I was pretty shaken up by a bad car accident about 3 weeks ago — and between bouts of feeling very blue and very happy to be alive and intact, I find myself at ease and at peace in only one place: the kitchen.
Has cooking helped you heal from a trauma, death, unexpected event? I invite you to share your story as I share mine.
On a crisp, bright sunny Saturday morning, I was kibbitzing with my father as I drove a red minivan through the residential streets of Indianapolis. We were winding down a very successful work trip and had a few hours for sightseeing before we were to hop on separate planes to get home to our respective cities: Portland, Oregon and Santa Barbara, California.
In a split second, another car ran a red light into our intersection, colliding with the side of our minivan at 40 miles per hour. No time for braking on my part or for the other driver. We careened across the road and flipped several times before grinding to a halt on our side. For an eternity I watched my father turn upside down on a roller coaster ride neither of us bought tickets for. I watched my beloved dad crunch and collapse in my mind for those interminable seconds.
As the car settled, he calmly asked if I was OK. I was OK. He was OK. I'll never forget the relief and shock knowing that we were going to walk out of the van intact. A miracle.
Fast forward to now, weeks later — after sorting through paper work, phone calls, police reports and doctor visits, I'm exhausted and emotional. The list of faxes to be made, prescriptions to be filled and insurance hoops to jump through feels discombobulating, especially because of having to rehash events to multiple people, all trying to be of help in their own ways.
Where do I find myself healing through this time? In my kitchen and in the garden. The direction and narrow focus of following a recipe is wonderful. There's a predictable beginning, middle and end. There's no cataclysmic event that's going to take place between me and my bowl of kale salad, freshly picked from our backyard bed.
My days revolve around paperwork, rest and one unreasonably ambitious cooking project. Soups, muffins, waffles, comfort foods of all sorts — I even tried my hand at making homemade yogurt-covered pretzels (it didn't really work out)!
The kitchen is the place I find comfort, resolve and courage to carry on. We take care of ourselves in our own special ways and never before have I been so grateful to be a curious cook. Despite having acute back and neck pain, I find joy in a perfectly ripe peach for pie and trust that making a pan of homemade oatmeal cookies is as crucial to my recovery plan as visits to the physical therapist.
We are who we are due to circumstance, upbringing and uncovering our passion — my steady totem, as I stare into the sea of uncertainties is my place, nourishing myself and my family with good food. Although my appetite isn't quite back at full force, the sensuality, alchemy, pleasure and familiarity I find while busying an hour or two in the kitchen ground me in the moment. This fortunate reality that I am whole, my father is all right too and we will cook many more pumpkin pies together in this teeny kitchen of mine. We are lucky in ways I cannot describe, as alternate outcomes pass through my mind.
So I have the oven at full blast, a lasagna about to be pulled out to rest on the counter. A bowl full of salad from our garden awaits, slathered in tangy dill dressing I've made just moments ago. We will have brownies and a scoop of ice cream for dessert, fresh strawberries on top. Because, after all, there's nothing a plate full of honest food shared with great friends can't cure. And I intend to enjoy every bite and savor every laugh.
Has cooking helped you heal from a trauma, death, unexpected event? How so?
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(Images: Leela Cyd Ross)
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I'm definitely a stress baker. When my senior project for my degree seemed to be falling apart at the seems the night before it was due I couldn't sleep. After I'd done all I could to pull it together I took a step back, went into the tiny kitchen in my college apartment and baked some scone for my professor and classmates, thinking that if I had to subject them to a subpar project I could at least feed them at the same time. It helped me calm down and find confidence in myself again. I passed the course and graduated and will always bake when I feel stressed.
so beautifully written. you're so lucky and i hope your dad is recovering well. this almost made me cry....
I don't have a story to share, but I will remember yours for sure. Thanks for sharing, and I do wish you a speed recovery.
This is a beautiful story, and it is good to hear that you are both safe. I haven't been through anything so traumatic, but I am in the midst of finishing up my dissertation. I have never been so prolific in the kitchen. I've been baking up a storm, and trying candy-making for the first time. You're right, it's very soothing to follow a recipe. For me, it has to do with concentrating and working hard on something that will bring joy to others, but doesn't really have any other consequences.
What a beautiful story.
After I had my son, I was really depressed, and the only thing that kept me up and about was knowing that I had to feed myself to feed my kid. So, cooking in the long run pushed me out of the depression and into the real world. And there's something about the knowledge of finishing something that boosts spirits.
I am a stress baker.
I never forgot getting a phone call my dad was in a head on collision (with a woman texting while driving who didn't see she swerved right in the other lane and hit my dad at 55 mph. Don't text and drive- it's just dumb) he was ok, thank God, but I was so shaken my husband just looked at me and said "what do you need?" and I got up, walked in the kitchen and made madelines. Then pie. It just makes me feel better.
Beautiful words from a beautiful heart...I lost my dad suddenly two years ago, and am still trying to get on with my life without him. I was lucky enough to be near him when he passed away and Doctors tell us he was painless in the end... Which was enough for us as a family... But the days after with all the rituals that follow, left me very bitter towards my relatives... Hinduism has many rituals but given the current times, not all make sense, esp to someone like me... And some are just torture.. So when I got back from my native land, the first thing I learnt to make was Pizza n Bread.. Somehow punching the dough down took out al of the built in anger!! And now I bake when ever i get angry:). May not be the best way to vent..but it helps me and it has helped my mom too...not pizza but just cooking...
Any activity that's somehow distracting and meditative at the same time will have this relieving effect.
Draw a still life, bake a cake, clean out the closet -- the combination of actions you must think about and movements you can do on autopilot somehow make everything better.
I've been fighting cancer for the past year, and merely going into work and getting stuff done is more gratifying than I could imagine. That sense of completion and accomplishment when you finish a task -- and when other things in your life are chaotic and out of your control -- is practically euphoric.
A wonderful story, thank you so much for sharing. The kitchen is such a meditative place for me that I can easily put myself in your shoes.
Here's wishing the emotional and physical scars heal soon.
When my mother died, 17 years and a few days ago, everyone in my immediate family thought it was so weird I wanted to bring food to the post-funeral wake since traditionally of course I would be a primary mourner and receiving food, not providing it.
Of course there was plenty of food there from friends & family, but I so desperately needed a project to get me out of bed and standing upright in the face of grief that was hitting me like a hurricane. If I recall correctly, I made about six dozen individual fruit tarts, fussing over the placement of the fruit, etc.
To this day, whenever see a fruit tart I experience a strange combination of emotions: a sharp pang of remembered grief, amusement at the picture of my old self cranking out all those complicated tarts, love for my mother, and gratitude for having something to get me through those first, terrible days of loss.
My sincerest wishes to all of you in your current losses. May joy and health and peace return to you all quickly.
A beautiful story, and one I relate to so well. I first realized the healing powers of baking after the shooting at Virginia Tech while I was in college. Being hours away from many of my close friends, the only thing I felt I could control was to make food to take up to them when visiting the next weekend. Sharing a home cooked meal together was what all of us needed, to both mourn and give thanks.
Thank you so much for sharing. Two years ago I started experiencing panic attacks on a daily basis. It was exhausting, I was confused as to where they were coming from. I would go out into the world and feel tense, afraid that I would experience a moment of panic at the grocery store or at work. One of the only things that provided peace was walking into my apartment with some produce or some flour and creating a meal. The panic attacks have subsided but my love and appreciation for food and gardening have only grown. When I pick some fresh lettuce or raspberries I feel rooted and calm. It is such an incredible blessing.
I was in a car accident last month and completely relate to your feelings. Thank you for sharing.
So beautifu, Leela! I am incredibly thankful you and your father are healthy and in one piece. What courage it took to share that story. Here's to healing - slowly but surely.
Your story is very touching...
I also find cooking healing but in a different way. I had a health crisis about 3 years ago and lost control of my body and fell into deep depression. I finally realized that what I did have control over was what I put in my mouth. And a shift in my diet and attitude has helped me heal. I loved my time in the kitchen as it was a determined step towards my recovery.
And I was right - changing to an almost vegan and gluten-free diet - continues to fix my body from a (medically untreatable) autoimmune neuromuscular disease. I love trying out new recipes and feeling good about what I make for my family.
So my healing journey is different but it very much involves my kitchen on a daily basis. xo
Absolutely I am like this!! My husband told me once, "You cook when you're sad, and you cook when you're happy. That's what I like about you." He was right! I've had several traumatic experiences in the last few years, and each time I spent tons of time in the kitchen afterwards, not just cooking but cleaning also. It's nice to hear about other people like that. I'm sorry you went through that, and hope you feel better soon.
I am just coming out of a failed engagement....and leaving a kitchen I designed myself.
Last night, I went apartment hunting, came home and cried because I was going to miss my pot drawers. I like them THAT much. (you can laugh, i laughed at myself this morning when i remembered)...
But it's the place where I feel most comforted...I am very much looking forward to getting a new kitchen and making it my own.
My cooking and now my blog is due to a diagnosis of cancer 21 plus years ago. I was in my 30's all my friends were starting to have children and i had a tumor. And here I was a non smoking, non drinking vegetarian! I was given a poor prognosis, surgery and chemo. During my recovery I tried a macrobiotic diet but was getting too weak. My doctor suggested ayurvedic eating..Indian food. Bam! I was hooked. I plunged into the world of Indian cuisine. Guided by my sister-in-law an Indologist who lived and worked in India I started to master this complex and intricate cuisine. I lost myself in Indian food..and 21 years later healthy and fit, I'm still wandering. I found comfort and peace of mind in the kitchen. I now have a blog where I share what I've learned. I always feel better in the kitchen
http://www.thecolorsofindiancooking.com
The act of concentration required in doing something new (like following a new recipe or technique) helps me cope with stress. Thank you for sharing and I hope you have a swift recovery.
So sorry to hear this happened to you. I find cooking calming and restorative too. I love being in the kitchen after working all day--chopping an onion, sipping wine, making something wholesome & delicious to eat.
Looking for menu ideas this morning and finding your words were comforting. I too have been using my time in the kitchen to heal. My father is battling the final stages of Pancreatic cancer...his struggle constantly weighs on my mind. Gathering ingredients, the routine of chopping, the focus of smelling, the pleasure of creating, the simple joy of tasting...enjoying not only nourish my family but feed my soul.
Thank you for the reminder. When I was 1000 miles away from family and lost my mom, a friend sent me a recipe asking if I liked to cook for therapy. I hadn't before then, but that recipe has become a signature dish of mine. The recipe gave me focus (task at hand) and relief (the grief wasn't as acute while cooking).
Lovely article, though I probably shouldn't have been chopping onions when I read this...
My family has always been very close. Everyone in the family cooks and each one has his or her own special dish. Every Sunday everyone gathers at my grandma's place and we all eat, share, drink and laugh together.
When I moved to Germany to pursue my Masters degree not having this anymore was a blow - and immediately cooking proved to be a way to feel close to my loved ones. Less than a year after this, one of my uncles - one I was particularly close to - passed away. It was an unexpected and extremely painful moment and I think that the only things that kept me going were my partner's loving support and baking. My uncle was the official family baker and made the most amazing cakes, light, airy and so tasty at the same time. That week I baked three enormous coconut cakes (my favourite and the one he always made for my on my birthday). Frosting and all. It helped me cope.
The first year that I moved to Australia I was pretty lonely most of the time and depended on routine to keep myself from going nuts. One of the routines was making sure I had dinner every night and everything that revolved around that- finding recipes, grocery shopping, doing prep work, and finally cooking. No matter how lonely I was I could always come home and cook dinner in my own safe place, the kitchen. MasterChef Australia started and that got me further hooked. My boyfriends started to come over once a week for designated cooking nights, which I credit for making our tumultuous relationship smooth over a little.
When there was nothing else- when the apartment was empty and everyone in the States was asleep and I had no internet to contact the outside world and I felt most isolated- I could disappear into the kitchen and make something with my hands. For those hours, I was safe.
I've had a very stressful summer so far, having moved in with my boyfriend on his family's farm three months ago which was swiftly followed by a family situation more dramatic and different than anything I've dealt with before. Amidst all of the hurt and stress I've had to deal with, the thing that I have enjoyed most so far, and probably the best part of my summer has been the constance and regularity of having to cook three meals a day and having a chance to appreciate fresh, local, quality ingredients. It's comforting to know that there are some things I can do that will work out most of the time and keep me grounded in myself.
I am going right into my kitchen and baking an Ollie's Chocolate Cake. (with Coffee), icing it, pouring myself a big glass of milk, putting a candle on it, blowing it out and celebrate the fact that I am alive. A lovely post. Baking is nourishment in the most basic form. When stressed I cook; when threatened to the core....I bake. Great post.
I was thinking about this on Friday evening. We live in central Oslo, after hearing a loud noise, I checked online to see what had happened. The shock of seeing large parts of the center of town destroyed by the bomb, and following the news of the subsequent massacre outside of town made us lose our appetites, and all the weekend cooking plans went out the window.
After being overwhelmed by the news, I went into the kitchen and started slicing up all the vegetables we had in the fridge. It was definitely therapeutic to focus on a simple, repetitive task. Looking at the mound of chopped vegetables before me, and having no desire to turn on the stove, there was only one thing to do: soak some rice paper wrappers and make Vietnamese spring rolls. It was comforting, delicious and gave me an hour of peace in an otherwise turbulent weekend.
love all the wonderful comments, and this post is just beautiful. really brings out the primal nature and meaning of a thoughtful meal.
Thank you so much for sharing your stories, each and every one was truly lovely.