Taste is a sense like no other. It associates us with family, history, joy, tradition, and life. Food is powerful. Hollis will willingly sit in his crate for a couple hours because he knows he will receive a delicious biscuit. My friend from Bangalore, Nandini, tells me you should eat with your hands because taste is such a sensual experience. 

Food is religion.  Remaining Kosher, refusing meat during Lent, giving up coffee. Denying pork or beef or alcohol. Fasting. When Christ returned to earth, he ate broiled fish further proving he was in the flesh. When Christ taught about love for many and the abundance Christianity can provide, he shared an endless meal. At a wedding celebration, he changed water into wine.

Food is a place. When visiting my colleagues overseas, they wanted to show me their local faire – everything from chili crab to curry to Vegemite – because this is their culture. This is what their mothers fed them and what their mothers fed their mothers. 

Food is entertainment. After a marriage celebration, we share a meal and a cake. Food can be so entertaining that we forget it is also the fuel for our lives. Food is a necessity. We need food to live.

Tonight I am going to eat a chicken-fried steak.  My dad loved chicken-fried steak, and my mom (sorry Mom), never got the recipe quite right. Wisconsinites are “hot dish” people, not “southern food” people, she will remind me. That’s how I am going to remember my father who left us one year ago today.  Through a meal. Through taste. Through food that we need to live. 

We love you, Dad.