This article is long enough so I won't make any comments. I just wanted to share it because it's good.
My friend John Egerton told me once that sometimes when people have
lost a loved one or are in despair all you can do is take them a bowl of
potato salad and tell them you’re sorry.
He went on to say, emphatically, that there is great power in that
sort of action. John spoke specifically about Southern foodways at that
moment, but there was a universal truth in his message. I know from
personal experience on the receiving end that is true and it is even
more powerful when that compassion is delivered in numbers.
Tragedy has the ability to suffocate us. Like the song says, “Death
don’t have no mercy.” Once the grip of devastation gets a hold of us as
individuals or as communities it is almost impossible for one
individual to pull themselves out of that grip. It is in those times of
human frailty that we realize that tragedy strips us of all nutrition.
We become devoid of all things that give fertility to our lives in a
physical, emotional, or spiritual sense. These are the times when we
truly need our community, but they are also the times when we need to
understand how we can contribute to our community.
Community is an interesting thing in the sense that as humans, we
depend on it to provide a certain sense of our well-being, yet at the
same time we struggle to define or reinvent our place in it. Given the
opportunity to look at our place and function in our community, people
have the chance to see their value because what a community is really
composed of is relationships.
In difficult times and when tragedies befall us, it is most important
as individuals to reflect on what our relationship is to our community
and to fulfill that role by whatever means we have at our disposal. The
culinary community has a unique opportunity at those times to be on the
front line of trying to help revive and nourish people in need. Food
can very quickly comfort and console people and help give them a little
strength to start rebuilding or recovering from what has hurt them.
As a cooks and restaurateurs, my partners and I at Jim ‘N Nick’s Bar-B-Q have
found ourselves in the position to recently reflect on this very topic
when tornados devastated our home state of Alabama. You feel an
immediate sense of helplessness when you see mass amounts of
acquaintances, friends, and neighbors suddenly stripped of everything.
If you are lucky, that helplessness gives way to an involuntary reaction
where you just try to do what you know in order to help ease the burden
if even just a little bit.
Being in the restaurant business our reaction was to start feeding
people. We loaded up our rigs and cooked because that’s what we know
how to do. We shared plates of food and handed them out to people who
knew how to give medical care, or bring order to chaotic situations, to
those who were clearing electrical lines, organizing shelters, and so
on. Even more importantly, meals were offered to the people who lost
everything. It’s what we know how to do, so that’s why we did it.
Did those meals solve people’s long term problems? No. But the meals
eaten around makeshift tables provided a place for everyone to come
together and established time for some to begin shoring themselves up to
move forward.
It was encouraging to see people use their skills to do what they
know; the net result is most important to the community and it is what
is most impactful in times of hardship and tragedy. As a cook, it might
be thoughtful to try and rebuild someone’s home, but it probably
wouldn’t be very helpful if you don’t know anything about home building.
This past spring Egerton’s wisdom pointed us in the right direction.
We knew we could offer some potato salad to someone who was in need or
hurting and let them know we were sorry for their loss. Food is
important and powerful, it helps us remember our place or maybe even
redefine our place when that’s what we need the most.
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Written by Drew Robinson III
Until next time,
Marci. :)
