Once upon a time I was invited to Eileen’s backyard for her monthly luncheon. The table was decorated simple elegance. with cloth napkins, china plates and bows, and fresh flowers in the center. It was set on the back flagstone patio surrounded by the handiwork of her super-green gardening thumb. Eileen made all the food for the 4 of us. Secretly (well not anymore) I was surprised to be invited to something so special but I certainly wasn’t going to turn down the invitation. This invite turned into more invites. Each gathering happened at lunch time and included spectacular food and significant conversation. The menu was seasonal, thus springtime sandwiches, summer salads, and the best: fall/winter soups. My favorite was Eileen’s pumpkin/squash soup. I still see the orange puree and smell the pie-like spices when she lifted the lid of her fancy white soup tureen. Bread accompanied each meal with real sweet cream butter. It was a must to save room for dessert because you simply would not want to say no to her lemon cakes, multilayered bars, chocolate mousse, or fresh mixed berries with flavored real whipped cream. No matter what the season, at the end of every lunch, the small fluted crystal sipping glasses would come out and Eileen would pour our ambrosia: black raspberry Chambord liqueur and heavy sipping…I mean whipping cream.
I need to find me an Eileen here in South Florida.
One conversation at one particular lunch set into motion such a strong belief that I have been writing a virtual book about it ever since. All of the stories and defenses, the justifications and proofs have been hanging out in my head all these years. I talk to a lot of people about it and have been encouraged a time or two to write it down yet never have. Well the waiting is over – for me anyway. I’ve put it off so many years I stopped keeping track.
Here’s the conversation:
Eileen and company are all talking about things we do to tell/show others we love them. They mentioned things like acts of service, physical touch, gifts. They were referring to a book they had all read which I had never ever heard of called The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. Eileen noticed I wasn’t participating in the conversation and asks THE QUESTION that rocked and clarified my world:
“Laura, what is your love language?”
Without thought, hesitation, apology, or knowing there was a wrong answer I replied: “Food.”
Eileen and company verbally jumped all over me with a pretty clear message stated 3 different ways: “Food is NOT one of the Love Languages.”
I beg to differ. And I have been ever since. So now I get to share with whoever is listening, I believe FOOD gets its own category. Gary Chapman is genius; read his books, take the profiles and really improve communication with those you love and interact with. I however, still stand firmly in my belief Food is the Missing love language.
And I intend to write about it for 31 days!
I totally agree! My first hubby taught me to care about food and to view it as a gift we offer others.
The gift of beauty, texture, color, flavor, aromas of food are what love embodies and what we desire-more like what we’re created to experience and enjoy!
Write on, Laura!!
LikeLike
Oh food is DEFINITELY a love language. Or COOKIES in particular when it comes to my husband haha
LikeLike