The Love of Cooking

There is just something about making food for someone you love. For me, it has always been one of the simplest ways to say, I love you. I’m glad you’re here. Let me take care of you. My love language is making food for others.

I love thinking about what someone might enjoy, planning a meal, finding the best ingredients, setting the table, and adding those little extra touches that make an ordinary meal feel special. I don't necessarily need a reason to cook something elaborate. Sometimes, the best meals are the ones that happen simply because friends or family are coming over.

It started at home

I think a lot of this love was passed down to me. Growing up, my parents really loved to cook. Food was a big part of our family life, and I watched them create meals with care and enjoyment. There was something about being in the kitchen together, preparing food and eventually sitting down around the table, that made a house feel like home.

I didn't realize how much those moments were shaping me until I became an adult and started creating a home and family of my own. Now, I find myself doing many of the same things. I love having people over, planning what we're going to eat, trying a new recipe, or making an old favorite. I especially love the feeling of putting something homemade on the table and watching everyone dig in. It feels like a little piece of the home I grew up in has followed me into the home I'm creating now.

Food is how I say, "you matter"

For me, cooking isn't just about feeding people. It's about caring for them. It's buying the good strawberries because I know someone loves them, making an extra dessert because I have a feeling everyone will want seconds, picking up fresh bread from a local bakery, or finding the best produce at the farmers market. It's taking the time to make something from scratch when I could have easily bought it.

I love going the extra mile, especially when it comes to the ingredients. Whenever I can, I love using local and fresh foods and choosing ingredients that are in season. There is something special about knowing where your food came from and taking the time to turn those ingredients into something delicious for the people gathered around your table.

And I don't think it has to be complicated to be meaningful. Sometimes it's as simple as using fresh herbs, adding a beautiful garnish, or serving dinner on the dishes I love instead of saving them for a "special occasion." Because I've come to realize that this is the special occasion. Having people we love around our table is enough.

And then there's Ryan

Thankfully, my husband, Ryan, shares my love of feeding people—although his specialty looks a little different than mine. Ryan loves to smoke meat, and when I say he loves it, I mean he really loves it. Give him a smoker, a good cut of meat, and plenty of time, and he's happy. Brisket, homemade bacon, smoked cream cheese—you name it. He loves the process almost as much as he loves feeding people.

There is something pretty special about the two of us working together in the kitchen and around the smoker. I'll be thinking about the sides, the dessert, the table, and all the little details, while Ryan is tending to the meat. We have different approaches, but the same love language. We're both saying, Come in. Sit down. Eat something. Stay awhile.

Around our table

As a mom, I also hope this love of food becomes part of our children's memories. I want them to remember a home where people were welcomed, where there was usually something good cooking, where friends could stop by and pull up a chair, and where family gathered around the table and stayed a little longer than they planned.

I hope they'll remember the smell of something roasting in the oven, the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen, and Dad standing outside tending to the smoker. I hope they'll learn that hospitality doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't require a spotless house, an elaborate tablescape, or a complicated recipe. Sometimes hospitality is just saying, I've made something for you.

And I think that's why making food for others feels so natural to me. It is one of the ways I know how to love. It is how I learned to make a house feel like home. And maybe, in the end, that's what I'm really making when I cook for the people I love—not just a meal, but a memory.