Comfort Food

I had a Happy Meal yesterday. Yep. Cheeseburger, fries, coke. And of course, the toy. What good is a Happy Meal without the toy? Of course the toy was for something called Clone Wars which I know little about. But I did get the Obe Wan Kanobe character from Star Trek so at least that made a little bit of sense.

My first job out of college was with a medical device company in Carlsbad, CA. I was hired as a desktop publisher and worked with a graphic designer who became a lifelong friend. She introduce me to the Happy Meal as adult-comfort-food way back then. It actually makes a lot of sense for a number of reasons. One, you get small portions of everything you love about McDonald's. Unlike the super-sized #4, your portions are controlled so you can fulfill the ever-present need to "eat the whole thing." So many times one or the other of us would say "feel like a Happy Meal?", and off to Mickey Ds we'd go.

That same friend came to see me yesterday. She lives in the desert and drove quite a long way to get here. "What can I bring you for lunch?" she asked. "Hmmmmmm ... maybe just a sandwich. No, what about a Happy Meal?"

She laughed. "We could do that," she said.

"I probably shouldn't eat that stuff," I replied.

"Well you only live once."

"You're right. Happy Meal it is."

So she arrived with two white bags in hand.

"What'd we get? What'd we get?" We both said. We got a really good laugh when we pulled the toys out and neither had any idea what they were. As I said, I recognized Obe Wan. My friend got an orange-faced lady who appeared to be clutching a light-up phallus ... I mean light-saber. Thankfully the kids arrived home shortly and set us straight on the whole Clone Wars thing (minus the phallus, of course).

What is it about comfort food in times of need? As soon as we hear of someone who is ill, laid up, or otherwise facing one of life's challenges, our inclination turns to food. We've got two refrigerators, both of which are stuffed to the gills with things sent or brought by people we love, and who love us, I suppose. It started with the homemade tinga. For those who don't know it's a delicious Mexican dish including pulled pork, chicken and beef, all cooked in a yummy sauce and delivered with tortillas actually made in Mexico. My first real meal out of the hospital, and it was soooooooo good.

There's the Honeybaked Ham with all the trimmings (no calories there). The homemade chili with cornbread muffins. The delicious meaty lasagna (thanks to the cook ... the kids were terrified it would be laden with spinach. Yep, the cook has kids ... you know who you are!). There are the quiches and soup that were delivered while I was sleeping by someone I'd never met. An angel enlisted by an out of town friend to bring us comfort in our time of need. There are the containers filled with frozen chicken crepes and enchiladas. There is the very generous gift certificate given by my department at work for an online meal delivery service. We're holding on to that for when the parade of food deliveries slows down. And then there's the chocolate. Pink M & Ms 'for the cure', two enormous hershey bars, truffels, chocolate covered pretzels, bags of snack food from Trader Joes. Yep. We're flush with foodstuffs. No doubt about it.

Yesterday my mom started chemo. We were all so anxious about how the day would go. When I had chemo 25 years ago there were no anti-nausea drugs and I would pretty much plan on not eating at all for a good 24 hours, else it would come right back up. Nowadays they have all kinds of medications to keep nausea at bay. Mom got some of those. I talked to her last night after she'd been infused with toxic chemotherapy for 6+ hours. After I got over my surprise that she answered the phone and sounded just like mom, I said "How are you doing?"

"Well, I've just finished an entire cheeseburger."

After laughing to myself and sharing my disbelief ... I mean who eats a cheeseburger after a full day of chemo ... I realized that we had a ten-minute conversation where she didn't cough once. First time that's happened in two months. Yesterday was a new day, as is today.

What a comforting thing.