When the guy delivered the box I could smell the lemony, rasberriness through the cardboard...The world was set right by your cake.

Comfort Food

Please tell us if you’ve ever been homeless, homefree, homebound, homesick, away from home, homesafe or other states of mind or being dominated by the concept of home. If so, what role did food play? We’re interested particularly in exploring ideas of what kinds of food you associate with home and what is comfort food to you? CLICK HERE to tell us what comfort food means to you >>>

Comfort Food

Posted by Scott on 04/07 | Permalink | Email this entry |

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From smallest girlhood,
well into teen years,
now with accelerating age,
cookies have comforted me.

My grandmother’s “receets”—
her only tangible legacy—
made chewy molasses cookies
a family legend.

Any self-respecting nutritionist
recommends a handful of oatmeal cookies
heavily laced with raisins
as a healthful breakfast.

Cookie-baking lessons are
the first for young cooks.
Holiday cookies decorated by small,
eager hands are treasured by all.

All chocolate addicts appreciate
that melting madness called “Toll House.”
At desperate times, some of us will
finish a batch from the bowl, unbaked.

Named “biscuit” by our British mothers,
accompanied by tea,
cookies are the highlight of a civilized day
or ought to be.

Children of careering mothers
will settle for an after-school
welcome—a treasure-hunting dive
into the cookie jar.

I’m still wearing on my small frame
the globular residue
of every comforting cookie
I ever ate.

Barbara J. Rios, Santa Cruz, California

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