Comfort Food

I very rarely watch the news these days as it’s too depressing. Old issues thought resolved have resurfaced demanding resolution. New issues are being created out of whole cloth at times apparently just for the sake of having something to scream about. This will all run its course as human events do. One of the reactions to the turmoil of current events is to turn to comfort food. Wikepedia defines comfort food as “food that provides a nostalgic or sentimental value … and may be characterized by its high caloric nature, high carbohydrate level, or simple preparation.”

What comfort food you favor often depends on where you lived and what you ate growing up. Pizza seems to loom large in many minds. Also burgers, mac and cheese, ice cream, chocolate and hot dogs are frequent choices among Americans. Around the world, comfort food takes the form of such dishes as rice puddings, herbed flatbread, moussaka and pierogies.

It seems to be something deeply embedded in us that prompts us to seek out food of this nature during times of stress. A scientist was being interviewed in a documentary by Nova about the violent eruption of Mount Pinatubo while he was at Clark’s Air Base. He described the harrowing situation as the volcano grew more and more violent. Noticing one of his fellow scientists had made up a batch of popcorn and was avidly devouring it, he expressed astonishment asking him why he was eating popcorn. “I always eat popcorn at this part of the movie.” was the response.

Popcorn is definitely one of the go-to foods when things seem to be getting out of hand whether it’s the result of an irritated volcano or rioting humans. My own personal favorite is of course ice cream. Fudge ripple, plain and simple, frequently shows up in my freezer in spite of its negative affect on my waistline. Popcorn sits up in the cupboard waiting for an appropriate moment to pull out the kettle, add ghee, pop it up and slather the results with butter and salt.

During the winter, the old stock pot will often come out and whatever chicken, turkey or beef bones I saved up in the freezer get hauled out and turned into broth.

Along with veggies I also add pasta, particularly when it’s poultry. The shapes vary according to my mood; spirals, bowties or alphabet. While not essential for good soup, they add a little extra something transforming it into excellent winter comfort food. Add a few saltine crackers and absolute perfection is achieved.

Pasta itself often serves as comfort food. Once in a while I will purchase large egg noodles, boil them up, add butter and salt and sit back with a large bowl. They get cooked the same way my late mother used to cook pasta, which is to say twice as long as the box calls for. I grew up eating pasta like this, thinking nothing of it and so got a bit of a shock the first time I ate it ‘al dente’. (Gah! They didn’t cook this enough!!)

An old family favorite is spaghetti goulash. According to my mother, when she originally began making this as a quick dish when my two older brothers were very small she used a canned tomato sauce for the base (either Franco-American or Chef Boyardee, I forget which). It went over well but she ran into a curious problem. Often, though not every time, one of my brothers would get sick to his stomach afterwards. Never both together and sometimes not at all. After this happened more than a few times she began to suspect the tomato sauce was to blame. So she switched to Campbell’s Tomato condensed soup with a few tablespoons of ketchup added. The issue vanished, so apparently the commercial sauce was a bit too spicy for my brothers delicate stomachs.

The recipe is as basic as it gets. Spaghetti gets boiled up (yes, twice the time the package of Prince spaghetti calls for), then three quarters pound of ground chuck gets fried up. I don’t add any butter or oil. The pan is heated medium high and the ground chuck gets stirred constantly until fully cooked. Then the tomato sauce with ketchup gets mixed in. Finally last but not least the cooked spaghetti is added. Nothing else gets put in and that includes any spices, much to the horror of an Italian girlfriend one of my brothers brought one time to dinner. ( No basil?? Gasp! No oregano??? Arghh!!). She disappeared after a while. Oh well.

The household I grew up in was largely spice and onion free as my father was adamantly opposed to them. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that the source of America’s eternal struggle with dyspepsia was those infernal spices. Onions were his bete noire (or so he claimed). So he refused to tolerate them. My mother would sneak in some onion when she made up beef stew, maybe a pinch of thyme in the turkey soup but that was about it. Nowadays, I am an avid onion user and generously toss in thyme and parsley into my chicken soup.

So whatever your favorite source of culinary comfort is, whip up a batch and sit back while eating. It will make the maddening crowd seem far away.