A friend of mine was raving about her looks-like-I-was-in-the-kitchen all day cranberry chicken that only takes 15 minutes to make. Cranberry sauce, a stick of butter, and some spices get mixed on the stovetop and then poured over the chicken. A magical 30 minutes later, your gourmet chicken comes out of the oven and your kids are ready to sign you up for Top Chef.  

She had me at the 15 minute prep time, but I let her go on about how it tastes so good and smells so delicious (insert gesticulating arms). But, she lamented quietly, it’s not very healthy with that stick of butter. 

I thought about what “health” really meant to her (and maybe you) at that moment.

Health didn’t mean having a meal on the table for her family to enjoy each other’s company and conversation.
Health didn’t mean gaining back minutes or hours of food prep time so that she had more time to do what she needed/wanted that night.
Health didn’t mean eating...

Empty Cento cans lined my countertop while the smell of onion and fresh basil floated through the air. My mom was patiently explaining her mom's recipe to me while our girl's helped measure ingredients. I loved that we had three generations working together to try  replicating my Nana's famous sauce. I could almost taste the perfection as we watched the little bubbles of red popping in the huge silver pot. 

I love that my mom was teaching me the recipe, but I wish that I would've taken the time to have my own Nana show me her secrets. I'm embarrassed to say I was too busy thinking that food should be fuel and that this particular combo of carbs and fat didn't quite fit with my "health" standards. 

I now know, that it's ridiculous to think of food as fuel alone. 
Food is SO. MUCH. MORE. 
Food is love. 
Food is connection to our family and our memories. 
Food is life. 
Food is medicine. 
Food is culture. 

Today's...