Filed under: Good Days, Veganism | Tags: Baking, Edmonton, Golden Gate Bridge Cake, Gratitude, Moving, Potluck
As you may be aware, I’m leaving my hometown of Edmonton, Alberta (look it up on google maps) and moving to San Francisco, California to be with my husband. While I’m greatly looking forward to the move, I’m going to miss the friends and family I’ll be leaving behind… well, most of them, anyway.
I tend to like to fly under the radar a lot. Especially lately when I’ve been trying to scrimp and save my pennies, I haven’t gone out much, and I’m sad to say I’ve neglected a lot of my friends, so I’ve been surprised the last couple weeks at all the people who have said they will actually notice and even miss my presence in Edmonton. Thanks, guys, and I’ll miss you too.
One of the people who really drove it home for me was my friend, Jennifer, who baked the most amazing cake I’ve ever seen for the PPK Edmonton Potluck this past Sunday. I don’t think I’ve ever had my eyes well up at the sight of food before, but I did this Sunday, and this is why:
It’s easy to forget that food can have that kind of impact. Though nowadays most people in my family can and do cook, from a young age, I was really the only one who would do things like make fancy dinners for my friends and family as a way of expressing affection. It’s not something conscious, but I guess I’ve just grown up feeling like there’s nothing that makes a person feel loved and cared for like a thoughtful, special meal. In fact, I would even go so far as to say the people who cook for you are the ones you keep.
Okay, that probably sounds mean, but looking back on the past 5 or 6 years of my life, the people who I remain close to are those I’ve made and shared food with. Not that the cake was a clincher or anything, but I’m pretty sure that whenever I think of this cake in the future (which is likely to be fairly often, since I’ll be seeing the Golden Gate Bridge fairly regularly in the coming months/years/lifetime), I’ll also think about sitting down to write Jennifer a note or postcard. When I have my wedding anniversaries, I’ll think of melisser, who baked my (belated) wedding cake and also the group of fine ladies who all chipped in to buy my new husband and I a fancy dinner. I didn’t literally share that meal with my girls, but I will think of them whenever I’m back at Millenium.
I suppose what I’m trying to get at is that while I love food and cook and eat a lot by myself, I look back at my life, and particularly my past 5-and-a-half years as a vegan, and I see special food connected to special people and special times (god, I’ve used the word “special” too many times in this entry, but if I were to get all thesaurus-y, it would be even worse, I know it), and I feel incredibly lucky to have met and broken bread with all of them.