First drawer to the left of the kitchen sink is the cutlery drawer of my house. Inside it is my favorite spoon. Small, round, with deep grooves along the back. It’s definitely a spoon meant for cheese, but I never thought of it like that. I thought of it as the spoon I use to eat the soup my mom makes me when I’m sick, or to eat freshly made rice and gandules that warm my chest. To me, the spoon is more than just a utensil tossed into a cluttered drawer. It represents the power of food to connect people. 

Spending hours, or sometimes days, cooking is an act of love. Waking up to a freshly made breakfast each morning and coming home to dinner is a part of my life that I will always be grateful for.  

For many people, eating is tightly woven into family. I have many of the same cravings as my parents and enjoy the same food they do. Eating brings family together every Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays. Whether I’m sitting on a stool at the kitchen table watching my mom cook or judging my dads gravy, Thanksgiving is a time where I am surrounded by people who love me, and the food they make reflects that. 

Food is deeply ingrained in every part of our life. From our day to day schedule, to where we spend our time. I think the value that food adds to our life, not just physically, but also emotionally and spiritually, is something that shouldn’t be overlooked.