Every human being craves comfort.  Webster’s defines comfort as a “strengthening aid”, or “consolation in time of trouble or worry”.

The specific trouble or worry requiring consolation varies.

I have recently relocated, and moved back to the area where I spent my teens and 20’s. I couldn’t wait to leave, and once gone, I couldn’t wait to come back.  It’s a dilemma many share (my friend and fellow blogger  often writes about this with tenderness and humor).  I have discovered, having been “home” a mere six months, that comfort takes many forms: a familiar landmark, warm (hot?) weather, sweet Southern accents, and, food.

For those who are familiar with my laments on Twitter or this blog, or in real life,  you know that my two ongoing themes these days are dating (groan) and good food (*groan*).  I recently embarked on what I’m calling a “Recipe Adventure”  (#recipeadventure on if you’re a Tweep).  In times of stress, joy, sadness, fatigue, you name it – any time I need comfort – I turn to food first.   Cooking and creating (or failing at , if you read my post about black rice pudding – a disaster) dishes makes me happy, relaxed, tranquil.  Few things (pg-rated, at least) take me to such a place of calm, relaxation and peace.  Food is my religion.  Cookbooks are my bible. 

So, real life has become a bit crazed.  The dating scene is stale (unless I were to become a lesbian, a gay man, a polygamist, or, again, a Cougar.  <cough>). My day job is increasingly stressful – not exactly what I hoped for when I moved South of the Mason-Dixon.  But the food scene… ah!  It’s alive.  It’s electric.  And, it’s where I turn when I need comfort.

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