Food Is My Love Language

It's not an original comment. Surely you've heard it in some form before. Food is my love language. Coffee. Chocolate. Wine. Whatever. I certainly know I have. And I know it's meant tongue in cheek, but there's some truth to those words as well.

I've been thinking about it lately. Because, oh my gosh, you guys, food is so my love language. The kitchen is my happy place. I talk whine here about my kitchen a lot. And I really, truly am grateful for a functioning, reasonably modern Western kitchen. But I daydream about the kitchen I long for. I watch Property Brothers and Fixer Upper to swoon over the kitchens. 

If you're not familiar with the Five Love Languages, I'd definitely recommend you checking them out. Understanding how to communicate love to those you, well, love, goes so far in keeping those relationships running smoothly. And if things are rocky, you might just find that there's a love language disconnect. I think the apology language stuff is really interesting, too.

So food is my love language. And quality time, acts of service, and, sometimes, touch. I score just about zero when it comes to gift giving --  I try for those who value it, but it's just not my forte. Sorry.

That's what got me thinking.

I was making dinner to take to the mom of a recently birthed little bambino. I had met this woman exactly one time in my life, but I very, very happily spent the better part of a day getting her dinner perfectly aligned and ready to deliver. For someone who doesn't do gifts, this was turning into quite the spread.

But it wasn't a gift, I said, it was an act of service. I totally do acts of service.

Lightbulb.

People, food isn't a love language. It's all of the love languages.  Or at least it invites all of the love languages. Think about it. Food invites us around the table: quality time. We prepare it, clean it up, share it: acts of service. Eating is a physical activity: touch. It call us to words of affirmation and thanksgiving: for preparing food, for joining us at the table, for sharing your story or your joke. And giving food to those around us: gifts. 

And then, my mind kept going . . . what is the centerpiece of our faith? A meal. First, God called the Israelites to prepare for, and then commemorate the Exodus with a meal. Then, he perfected it by becoming the Passover lamb. A meal we become united with at each Mass. Christ calls us to share in him, in his unity, in his love . . . through food.

Maybe I'm on to something.