What is Comfort Food?

Try not to get confused. There's a real difference between 'comfort food' and 'eating for comfort.'

All too often I find myself in the latter category.

Comfort food refers to simple, inexpensive, and generally easy to make food that is familiar. Eating for comfort, on the other hand, is drowning your sorrows in food.

I think that may be one of the reasons that many Mormons, and especially Utah Mormons, are fat. I'm included in the 'rotund set,' myself. There's quite a bit of cultural pressure to raise a large family on a single income. That's getting harder and harder to do these days, but most good Mormons aren't pedantic about it.

There's a whole economy of food that creates situations where cheap food is also fattening food. I think that contributes to why people who are poor, or on an overly tight budget, are also walking on the heavy side of life. Of course, that's a whole 'nother subject and I may blog about it sometime.

Eating for comfort is all too easy for me. I mentioned it a bit when I talked about how I became a Foodie. I've been trying to cut down on this sort of thing, but today was a perfect example of me giving in to my baser nature. I had a rather stressful morning and so, early this evening, I stopped by the convenience store and bought a diet soda and a bag of Funyuns.

No, the irony has not escaped me, thank you.

But that's the problem, really. Instead of turning to actual 'comfort food,' which would be much healthier, we often turn to junk food. It might taste good but it provides little actual comfort; especially not if you feel guilty about eating it, later on.

Comfort food, on the other hand, can be marvelous. Comfort foods tend to be regional. Fried chicken and barbeque are considered comfort foods in the Southern states, hoagies for the Eastern states, with chili and some stews nearly everywhere else in the US.

As people immigrated to the US, they brought their comfort foods with them. (Thank goodness!) Now we can all enjoy tacos, lox and bagels, miso soup, blintzes, and 'bangers and mash' along side our traditional casseroles and macaroni and cheese.

The reasons certain dishes become comfort food are varied. Often these foods are associated with pleasant events from childhood. Small children seem to latch onto a particular food and ask for it consistently (my daughters have all gone through a mashed potato phase, for example), especially in high stress situations. Adults seem to eat comfort food to gain a sense of continuity or stability.

Either way, comfort food is aptly named. In our stress filled world, it's often nice to slow down, get simple, and just get comfortable.

Red Baron Root Beer

As a child I loved the Peanuts comic strip. Still do. Even though its creator, Charles Schultz, passed away a few years ago it’s still in syndication and I still enjoy reading, and re-reading the collected comics.

When I was young, and on my way to becoming a Foodie, I had a cookbook that featured characters from the strip. One recipe I remember (and mentioned to you before) was called ‘Red Baron Root Beer.’ It’s a very simple recipe, but it’s fun for kids to make themselves, and a great treat for a hot summer afternoon.

Here’s what I remember about how to make it.

Red Baron Root Beer

Ingredients

Whole Maraschino Cherries
Your Favorite Root Beer

Put the maraschino cherries in an ice cube tray, one or two per cube. Pour your favorite root beer into the trays, along with the cherries, and freeze. Put a few of the frozen root beer cubes into a tall glass, pour in more root beer, and serve.

To be perfectly honest, I prefer making this with cola, or lemon-lime soda. You could try stirring in some of the juice from the packages cherries to the soda for added cherry flavor, if you want. The original recipe included toothpicks in the cherries (I think), but that just makes it dangerous to drink.

Cherry-Root Beer Popsicles

If you want to try a simple variation, you could make small cherry-root beer popsicles. Cover the ice cube tray with plastic wrap, and then sticking toothpicks through the wrap and into the cubes before your put it in the freezer. There are various commercial popsicle molds available, if you want to go that route.

How I Used Food to Get Married

Some foods are naturally linked to romance. Some are even reported to be powerful aphrodisiacs. For me, cooking and food has always been a way to open social doors and get dates. It even played an important role in helping me get married.

In my last post on food and dating, I mentioned how I used a particular marinara recipe as a way to entertain dates. Italian food is wonderful but, if I was going to turn My Future Wife (MFW) into my bride, I was going to have to up the ante. I resorted to one of the most powerful cuisine's I know - Chinese.

After dating MFW for a couple of years, we were both wondering where the relationship was going. What were we doing? We were both single, out of high school, and were expected to start making something of our lives. I had already served in the military and, although the opportunity for serving a mission for the LDS Church had been offered me, I wasn't jumping through hoops to sign up. I was too busy courting a lovely young blonde. Getting her to drop all semblance of common sense and marry me seemed to be the only way to make sure she tayed around.

So, I made my plans.

'Making plans' is really pretty deceptive. It makes it seem like I had taken several hours to come up with things, all down the last letter. Nothing could be further from the truth. How quickly this came into my head, and how quickly I executed it, would make your head spin. It had certainly made mine spin. I pretty much decided I wanted to marry her, and asked her as much, on the same date.

I had taken her to a local Chinese restaurant, the 'Canton Village.' (Sadly, it's no longer in business.) It was on the way to that restaurant that the decision to ask, and the plan itself, came nearly fully formed into my head. No, this wasn't a spiritual impulse from on high. I blame it on my infatuation with her and my natural impulsiveness. I've lost a lot of that impulsiveness over the intervening years. Some days I wish I had it back.

Right after being seated and placing our orders, I started into my act. I patted my pockets and said, "Oh, no. I forgot my wallet. Wait here while I go get it, okay?"

She gave me a look of concern but, as I'd never dumped her with the check before, she was probably safe to let me leave for a moment.

Instead of leaving right away, I stopped and spoke with the manager. I scribbled a quick note on a small piece of paper and tasked him with part of my quickly formulated, but super secret plan. MFW naturally assumed I was explaining the whole "forgot my wallet" thing to the manager and had no idea the real deviousness of my intent.

I left the restaurant and drove down the street about four blocks to 'The Flower Patch,' a flower shop I had used in the past. I ordered a dozen violet roses in a vase. (I was young. I didn't want to do traditional white roses. I wanted to be different.) They didn't have any long-stemmed ones, so short-stemmed would have to do. I was on a schedule.

Driving back to the restaurant, I secreted away the roses on the floor of the car, on the passenger's side. I knew they'd be the first thing she'd see when we got back to the car.

As I walked back into Canton Village, the manager greeted me with a conspiratorial smile, told me the preparations were in place, and I went back to dinner with MFW.

It was a very nice dinner. I love Chinese food. We had egg rolls and I think I ordered Mu Goo Gai Pan. It was all I could do to makes small talk without revealing myself. The food helped keep me occupied, thank goodness.

When the time came around for the bill, and the fortune cookies, they brought the cookies out on two separate plates - one for each of us. I don't remember what mine said, but MFW will always remember that hers read, in my horrible pencil scratch, "Will you marry me?"

MFW's eyes lit up. She gave me a broad smile, took my hand from across the table, and said, "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!"

Then it was my turn to smile.

As I went to pay for the meal, the manager, and the rest of the staff, we're all huddled around, looking eagerly at me. "Well? What did she say?" my co-conspirators asked. I was glad to report the mission had been a success, and they seemed glad. I suspect it's not often that they got to help a guy propose.

Back out at the car, MFW found the roses, and hugged them all the way home.