There’s a man in our downtown park who feeds birds and squirrels. He’s good at it. Smaller birds sit on his shoulder. Ducks gather round his legs. Squirrels nibble out of his hand.
There is something simply right about the act of feeding. All mothers know this. So do cooks. I get immense satisfaction watching people eat food I have spent some time, thought and effort in putting together. And, it rarely matters if the meal is simple or complex, a feast or a snack, food that complements a sporting event, or food memorable enough for a wedding celebration. If the joy in serving it forth (to quote M.F.K. Fisher), is lacking, then the meal in most cases will be lackluster, a joyless feed instead of a happy feast.
This past weekend, I was richly rewarded. There was a meal in the morning (for a football party), an elaborate pan bagnat for another gathering, followed by a meal for a sick friend’s family, and finally an evening dinner party. At the last, there was the plus of being a participant as well as a cook.
The next time you’re in your favorite restaurant, watch the chef and the cooks. You can tell if a full house and happy diners are making them happy. The smile on their faces will be the same smile you saw on your mother’s face when you finished your supper, and ate it all up.