Every holiday season when my paternal grandmother would visit for x-mas she would bring dense homemade fudge in holiday tins. She made everything from scratch 1000 miles away and toted it across the country to bring it to us. Not the boxed cakes and bagged marshmallows I was use to. The only time I’d eat fudge was when she brought it from the family farm. I remember how it melted in my mouth.
I didn’t appreciate those gifts the way I would now. My strongest political belief on food is that the food you eat should be loved. Bitter, resentful, jealous and angry meals will never nourish you, regardless of how good they are for you. When someone uses food as a vehicle to express their feelings I understand the phrase “A way to a person’s heart is through their stomach.” A good meal builds your bones and will stay with you long after the meal is over. A truly divine meal fuels your memories for years.