for the love of comfort food

Growing up, the only kind of cereal allowed in my mom’s pantry were cornflakes or cheerios. Once in a while we might score and get sliced bananas or raspberries on top of our cereal but never, (and I repeat - never) were we allowed to sprinkle sugar on top. It was plain old (boring) cheerios or cornflakes each morning.


Like typical children, we begged and pleaded at the grocery store, but the answer was always a firm and non-negotiable “NO.” I believe my mother would have willingly died before she would’ve allowed a box of sugared cereal to sit on one of her shelves.

Which is not to say I didn’t have my outside sources for the contraband.
I did.
Sleep-overs at girlfriend’s houses and weekends at grandma’s.

The first thing my grandmother and I did on our weekends together was head to the grocery store. She would push the cart up and down the aisles and tell me I could have anything I wanted.

Anything. And not just cereal.

So I would choose all the really cool, yummy stuff – like TV dinners and canned chicken noodle soup with oyster crackers, boxed mac and cheese, a couple 6 packs of Tab and Dr. Pepper, Wonder Bread, chocolate milk and Fruit Loops. Oh, and a can of Spam so she could make her famous fried spam sandwiches slathered with Miracle Whip on the Wonder Bread.

All of which my mother would have died fighting before allowing into her house or feeding to her children. For my mother, the gourmet, food was art.  For my grandmother it was about love and comfort and nurturing.

I haven’t been grocery shopping in about two weeks and my cupboards were (sadly) resembling those of Mother Hubbard. So, with me needing some groceries and my hub needing some stuff to finish a project, we head out to the Wal-Mart Super Center.

“You have your list?” my hub asks.
“Right here.” I say showing him.

I hop on a motorized cart, he grabs a basket and we each go off on our separate ways to accomplish our tasks and fill our lists.

But, the most amazing thing happened over on the cereal aisle. There I was, reaching for the box of Kashi, when I SWEAR I heard my grandmother tell me to toss away the list and pick out anything (everything) I wanted.

Really. Clear as a bell, I heard it. In her voice, the same way she used to tell me that when I was little.

I got a little teary eyed.
And I crumpled the list – going up and down the aisles, gathering my goodies:

Fruity Pebbles, Cocoa Krispies, Lucky Charms, Sugar Puffs and Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries. Cinnamon Life, Sugar Pops, Fruit Loops, and chocolate Frosted Mini Wheats. From there I headed off to find a loaf of wonder bread, a jar of miracle whip, 2 cans of spam and a half rack each of Tab and Dr. Pepper. Oh, and as I passed by the dairy, I threw in two half gallon cartons of half and half and a big flagon of hazelnut creamer for my coffee.

Grandma would have been proud.

“Ok - I’m done.” I say, motoring up to my husband in the hardware department.

He looks in my basket. At the nine boxes of cereal , loaf of white fluff bread, jar of miracle whip, 2 cans of spam, gallon of half and half and the creamer. A minute or two goes by.

“What happened to your list?” he asks.
“What list?” I answer.

He looks at me. Nods.
“Well then, let’s go.” he says (cherrily) and we head towards the check-out.

“Wow, you must really love cereal.” the young checker says as she scans the boxes.
“Love it. In fact I could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” says my husband.
“It kinda looks like you’re going to.” says the checker, giggling.
“Yep.” says my husband (resignedly) looking over at me.

Last June as we were celebrating our 31st wedding anniversary, a young woman, newly engaged, asked me my secrets for a long and happy marriage. I told her I didn’t know if there was a secret to it or not – and I still don’t.

But having a husband who loves me and (for the most part) indulges me in my idiosyncrasies and is willing to eat a bowl of cereal and fried Spam sandwich for dinner - and pretend he likes it sure helps.

All I can say is - that's LOVE.    
It so definately is........