This past weekend, I went down to Alabama to visit my Grandmother and extended family. Now a lot of people may mock the Deep South but there are some very lovely places, wonderful people, and the places where family is and memories made are the nicest ones.
My family loves to eat in a way that might make more disciplined people cringe. We ate unapologetically ham sandwiches on white bread, homemade pound cake before lunch, and cheesy broccoli casserole made with Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup. Not at all the way I eat normally; but the foods of childhood help melt away the anxiety that can sometimes come with seeing far-away family because of the intensity of emotions squeezed into short visits.
The combination of a backdrop of mountains and lake and leaving behind my hectic life, a life that I love, was very restorative. I returned to DC feeling more grounded. But leaving behind the side of my family that is loud and boisterous, clamoring over one another at the dinner table can make my present life feel a bit lonely. That is until a dear friend surprised me with a piece of truffle cheese, the perfect way to end a Monday Valentine’s Day. We shared it over a round of Peronis, breaking it into little pieces until it was all gone but we were not.
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