10 Food Lessons That Really Matter
On sending kids out into the world with the generous hearts of cooks
Issue 41: From Dana
How fast that went! One minute, it seems, I was pureeing baby food and packing up school lunches, and today I dropped my son Jack off at college with a carful of his stuff to step into life on his own.
It was an emotional day, but a joyous and optimistic one. Such adventures and discoveries lie ahead for him, I could practically taste them! The weeks leading up to this, I’ll be honest, I spoiled him rotten: I cooked his favorite meals, took him to his favorite restaurants, stocked up on his favorite snacks. It was like I was trying to fatten him up on all the food-love I knew I wouldn’t be able to shower him with on a daily basis anymore.
After we set up his dorm and walked into the crowded cafeteria, full of the cutest kids all eager as hell for their parents to leave, I had a pang of real worry. Watching everyone bite into blah burgers and wraps, I suddenly started fretting about what his food life would look like these next four years. Would he figure out how to MacGyver these institutionalized meals to make something super delicious? Would he seek out communal kitchens on campus to make dinners with friends?
And, more importantly, did I leave him with the real lessons—not the techniques, which I’m pretty confident he has down after years of cooking alongside me—but the important life lessons that make food so much more than mere meals?
Those first years of college are where many of us bloom as cooks and people with curious appetites, if those seeds had been planted. Like Jack, I grew up in a food-centric family, so lots of those lessons were modeled for me early on. But until I was on my own, I didn’t have an opportunity to fully explore them: I was the kitchen helper, not the orchestrator of meals; the person taken to restaurants, not deciding where to go. It wasn’t until I started living, cooking and eating on my own that I really experienced the larger lessons around food.
So, in the spirit of those cheesy graduation speeches full of aphorisms so obvious, they almost don’t need saying, here’s what I hope my son, and all kids leaving home, put into practice as they come into their own food lives.
1. Cooking is a Superpower—Use it Wisely
What other act lets you create community, foster stronger friendships, and nourish people all at the same time? So, plan big meals and cook your heart out; be inclusive and feed people with true generosity. Don’t use your superpower to preen or impress: the comedian Marc Maron wrote in an essay I love that he had to learn not to show off his skills and “cook at” people – instead, cook with or for them.
2. Show Them You Care
There will be times when your friends need extra care and attention. Show up with soup or a sandwich you made or a meal from a restaurant you know they love. Both the gesture and the food itself will make them feel loved and better.
3. Food is a Privilege—Share it
Those of us fortunate enough to have access to food need to acknowledge that many people don’t have this security. Share the bounty whenever you can—make a double batch of a meal so you can bring one to an elderly neighbor, volunteer at a soup kitchen, or organize food drives. Do your part.
4. Clean Up the Messes
At The Dynamite Shop, we teach mise-en-place, the French kitchen term for putting everything in its place, and we remind kids to clean as you cook. This is all to mitigate the fact that cooking is inherently messy, but learning to feel comfortable with a little chaos is a good skill, too. One lesson I learned from the amazing cookbook author Madhur Jaffrey is to go with the flow and stash some mess aside for later; she’d hide dirty pans in empty cabinets when she was hosting a dinner party. After the meal, make a ritual of cleaning up—and if you didn’t cook, offer to help, even if you’re just drying dishes and keeping the host company.
5. The More the Merrier
Don’t ever shoo people out of the kitchen; This is a mistake I made when I was young and really getting into my cooking groove. I didn’t want friends in the way, or to see how the sausage got made. How wrong I was! Cooking with others is joyful in so many ways, even if you’re working at different paces or laying some vulnerabilities bare. Cherish the time and the process of cooking together.
6. Don’t Be Afraid to Ask
Be endlessly curious about food. If you don’t query the person at the farmer’s market about what to do with that strange looking vegetable, or ask your friend where they got that amazing recipe, you’ll never know. Questions open doors and also honor other people’s kitchen wisdom and traditions.
7. Seek Out Food Adventures and Say Yes
Use food as a way into exploring and understanding other cultures and making connections. And when people invite you to join them at the table, even strangers, say yes—it’s those experiences you’ll remember forever. Trust me on this.
8. Be Humbled by Nature
Take a minute every now and then to appreciate the whole ecosystem that feeds us; its miraculous complexity and awe-inspiring beauty. Stop at a farm and marvel at all the amazing varieties, forage in the spring and be grateful for the wild edibles that pop up every year, get your hands in dirt, and learn how to grow things.
9. Practice Balance
Feasting with friends, especially when you’re new at it and can do it whenever you like, can be a sensory overload: it’s easy to overindulge and overserve, so be aware of your and your friends' limits. Learn moderation.
10. Nourish Yourself
Cooking for others is a generous act, but don’t forget to make yourself a special meal, or to give yourself permission not to cook, or to accept the gifts of food that others share. You deserve it.
These are lessons most cooks learn over time; I don’t expect Jack will experience them all during his four years at college, but I’m sending this his way in the hopes he’ll let the advice marinate. After I hugged my goodbyes and headed downstairs from his dorm room, I spotted a sign on the ground floor that said “kitchen” and followed it to a simple but perfectly manageable set-up off a large common area with tables and chairs. Jack, I hope you make yourself and the friends you’re bound to meet at home there.
POSTSCRIPT: A few days after posting this, I woke up to a text from Jack. “if ur coming by tmr i need Clothes, Chef knife, Ethernet cord, pot/pan, extra butter and cheese.” I have a feeling it’s all going to be alright.