By Gwen Rockwood, newspaper columnist, novelist, and mom of 3
One of my favorite things about food is how even one smell or bite can become a time machine. It happened last week when a friend, who knows my guilty pleasures, gave me a box of Cap’n Crunch cereal.
That night around 10pm, I poured those golden nuggets into a bowl and doused them with cold milk. I used my spoon to rhythmically dunk the cereal beneath the milk’s surface, and that simple motion began to rewind the clock.
Suddenly, I was 20 years old again, standing in the dated kitchen of my first tiny apartment. It was my third year of college when I drove that ancient Honda with the pop-up headlights. I didn’t have much money, but cereal was cheap, and my metabolism was still high. The memories were nearly as sweet as the cereal.
For my husband Tom, it’s pizza that sends his taste buds back in time. One of his first jobs as a teenager was working for a pizza place on a Wisconsin lake where his parents and seven siblings spent summers in a small cabin. The smell and taste of pizza make him feel like that tan kid with the light brown hair that turned a bit gold after three months of summer sun.
When I asked my oldest son, Adam, about one of his most vivid food-related memories, he didn’t hesitate. “Broccoli,” he said.
Me: “Really? I don’t remember you eating broccoli as a kid.”
Him: “I didn’t. But one time when I was about 10, Dad made broccoli with cheese sauce and told me that, if I’d try a few bites, he’d buy me the video game I really wanted.”
Me: “Did it work?”
Him: “Yes and no. I ate it. And I can still eat it if I make myself do it, but I’m not a fan. But… I did get that video game, and it was worth it.”
Score one for bribery broccoli.
Most mothers I know have at least one food memory related to childbirth. My friend Shannon said that, after two days in labor followed by an emergency C-section, the only food available in the hospital was a cold ham sandwich from a vending machine, which her husband brought to her bedside.
Even today, 24 years later, she still holds that sandwich up as the best one she has ever had, which probably has more to do with how exhausted, hungry, and relieved she was rather than the ham sandwich’s own merits.
Not only does food connect us to specific moments in our lives, it also helps us stay connected to important people. Every time I see or taste a watermelon, I think of my dad because that was his favorite food. Hot spiced tea in the winter makes me think of my mom, who always makes it to celebrate any snowfall and every Christmas.
Sometimes when I’m at a restaurant with a bar, I ask if they’ll make me a cherry Coke with grenadine topped with a cherry, just for the rush of nostalgia. It makes me remember summers spent with my childhood best friend, Jennifer. We’d ride our red mopeds out to the town’s country club, where her family had a membership. We’d swim in the pool, bake in the sun, and at least once per pool session, we’d go into the club where a nice older man at the bar would make us cherry Cokes. Then we’d buy two refrigerated Snickers bars to take back out to the pool with us. From that summer on, Cherry Coke represents friendship and carefree summers.
Here’s hoping this summer brings you opportunities to eat the foods that help you remember your favorite people or to revisit who you once were — like that happy kid at the pool, a famished new mother, or a picky eater who’d just earned his favorite video game with the help of some cheese-covered broccoli.
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her books are available on Amazon.