The Mask of Longing
Often when we long for one thing that craving is simply a mask for the thing we really want. When I crave Grandma Stamm’s macaroni and tomatoes, boiled potatoes, or chocolate cake, it’s not the taste I want. No one can ever duplicate her cooking even if they follow her recipes to the letter. Grandma made those with her special love, and that’s what I really crave. Grandma died twenty years ago, and I still long to spend time with her. She often expressed her love through cooking. Every Sunday she fixed favorite dishes for family and friends she expected to visit. There were no invitations, no RSVPs, no formality. People wandered in and out of her house Sunday afternoon and into the evening. They fixed a plate of food from the bowls and platters of food kept warm in the oven, played a game of cards, and chatted about the week past and the coming week. She’d lay her cards down to greet the newest visitors, and after much protest, retur...