Food

"Food, Glorious food, wonderful food".  This comes from a musical that the elementary school I attended many, many, many years ago (well, it was a long time ago) put on.  It was a version of Hansel and Gretel.  So what made me think about it now?  Well, I confess, I was watching Julia & Julie and of course it's about food.  That, combined with the fact that I have to think up something for supper, got me thinking about food.  All of the really great conversations I have with friends and family revolve around food.  If we aren't eating, we're at least in the kitchen talking, and preparing something to eat.  Conversations with friends and family that aren't even near each other (I skype with my sister often as we are on different sides of the planet) somehow turn to food.  Before the winter break I had people I work with over, and I made dishes that my sons and I used to eat at that time of year.  I spent time explaining the dishes and why I made them.  It added a different flavour (so to speak) to the gathering and made it seem more 'homie' - not to be confused with the slang term. 
Growing up, the best memories I have are all connected to food and the kitchen.  We would spend days preparing for friends and family to come by Christmas eve and for breakfast and supper Christmas day.  When we were little, my sister and I were put to work doing simple things.  As we got older, we were given more complex tasks, like slicing and dicing without including any of ourselves in the effort.  Our grandmothers would come over and there would be much baking and sauteing and saucing and - well you get the picture.  There was also a lot of laughter and chatter that made it all seem like fun, even though it was really a lot of work.  Not only did we all get involved in food preparation, but we also polished silverware (no wonder I have a distinct dislike for fancy silver tea services) which was truly a task and one I personally am glad I no longer do - or ever did as an adult, for that matter.  I can still remember the slimy feel of the purplish-blue silverpolish and how we had to get every little swirly knob and decorative froof absolutely spotless.  A lot of work for something no-one seemed to really pay any attention to.  When Christmas eve came, the table was stretched to its maximum length, the silencer (not the kind you put on a gun - the cloth that went on first - though why it was called that I have no idea), then the table cloth and often a lacy one on top of that (though why we didn't just put a plastic table cloth on instead is beyond me - would have saved all the stain remover and laundry soap mom had to use to get the barbeque sauce and mustard stains out).  No matter, that's what was done.  Then the best china was washed and dried by hand (this is pre-dishwasher we're talking here), and set out along with all the silver knives, forks, spoons, serving utensils and teaspoons.  Finally, came the food.  Salads (at least three kinds), cold cuts of meat, cheeses, mini sausages cooked in barbeque sauce (hence the stains), caseroles (at least two), home made buns, butter, and of course - dessert (my personal favourite).  Friends would come, visit, eat, visit, leave, until usually quite late at night.  There were a few families that ours hung out with once a month, and each family would take turns hosting.  This, of course, involved the kids playing someplace in the house while the adults visited in another and the moms and dads taking turns supervising.  Naturally, food was involved.  Lots of food.  All kinds of food, and we all ate, and ate, and ate (what else can you do with food really?).
Now it's tea or coffee and whatever is at hand (cake, cookies, cinnamon buns ...) and friends or family and sometimes both friends and family.  Gone are the days of the big feasts, and I can't say I'm sorry.  It's much nicer to have a slice of cake and a cup of tea with great conversation than cooking till you drop and then are too tired to eat anyway.  No matter.  Food is still glorious food and conversation is still great conversation - as long as it's in the kitchen (or an equivalent) and shared with good friends.  Now, I have to go poach an egg.