This Thanksgiving I took on the daunting task of making my mother-in-law’s cornbread dressing. This isn’t just ordinary dressing; this is my husband’s very favorite dish. This is “Mamma’s Dressing”. There are entire family stories surrounding this dressing. The outcome of holidays has been determined by this dressing. Forget the presents, forget the company; it was all about the dressing. No pressure.

After the making of the cornbread, the chopping of vegetables, the preparation of homemade chicken broth and getting the seasonings “just right”, the moment of truth arrived: the taste test. As he lifted the fork to his mouth and took the first bite of the beloved dressing, I received the best compliment as a cook I’ve ever received when he said, “This reminds me of home.” I don’t mind admitting that compliment brought a tear to my eye, but it was the image of home that got me thinking about the importance food plays in our hearts. Comfort food reminds us of home, and nothing says love quite like home.

Maybe you’ll remember the entrée or the impeccable service from dinner at a fancy restaurant. Maybe you swear by a certain dining establishment. Maybe you’re not a cook and eating out is just a way of life. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy going out to eat as much as anyone else, but honestly, is there anything better than home cooking? What is it about the smell of grandma’s apple pie baking? What about the smell of hamburgers and steaks cooking on the grill? What about the way a hot cup of cocoa tastes on a cold winter’s night? Usually these images conjure up happy memories of home and good times with family and friends. Comfort.

I remember one particular Valentine’s Day when my husband and I went to a real swanky hotel for the weekend and had dinner at their equally swanky hotel restaurant. I have never in my life been more disappointed in a meal! I don’t know if it was the triple digit bill or the fact that I don’t really appreciate a nicely decorated radish chip with three green beans, but I felt cheated. Looking back on that experience, I think that type of cooking is arrogant. Oh, how I would have rather had a bowl of red beans and rice with sausage and cornbread (and the $100+ still in our bank account).

As we are trying to make more with less these days, we are coming back around to the basics. We are beginning to realize that more isn’t always better…it’s just more. We are coming back to the truth that the best things in life aren’t things at all. I’ve always found that cooking was a way of showing the people I love how much I appreciate them by making them something good to eat. Good doesn’t have to mean fancy or expensive, but it does have to come from the heart. Simple, better, home, family, love...comfort.