"cooking up a care package" 8 recipes & other musings
For the people in your life who need a little love in food form.
You might’ve seen this video about the big postpartum food haul I did for my soon-to-be sister-in-law and her hubby. All the recipes are below <3. (this is a long ass newsy babes, sorry. not sorry.)
Hey my babies.
I’m so squarely in my auntie era right now. I’m surrounded on all sides by sweet babies and their parents who I adore deeply. Our good friends had a precious baby girl in January. My fiance’s brother and his wife just welcomed their smiley baby boy into the world in May. Femi and I were granted the high honor of godparents to a nugget making her way earthside in October. And I LOVE babies, they’re cool, they have tiny toes and honestly that’s incredible. But I don’t know that baby forreal forreal. So I have been thinking a lot about moms. And community.
But here’s some of my tea (I heard the gworls are calling it “lore”): I struggle with proximity. As an ADHD’er and generally hyper-independent person, you have to be in my face for me to proactively tend to your needs. It’s a blindness, but I don’t apologize for it anymore. It keeps me from over-expending as a formerly boundary-less, give-you-everything-I-have-to-give-and-ask-for-nothing-in-return friend. Which often means I don’t know what’s up with you until you tell me, until I ask, or until we are physically close. All of my best everything tends to happen in person, I’m very hands-on, tactile, present. The irony is that I’m a notoriously terrible content creator specifically due to this lack of desire to pull out my phone and record in public, or record private moments, or to edit the few videos I do record. I hold too many people, thoughts, moments, memories too deeply and give my all to what’s where I can see it. So, presence is a loaded word for me but I’m still working to find a balance that allows me to pour consistently without pouring out constantly.
The way I show up has started to look different as my values in my personal life have changed, as I get older and take on new shapes. I don’t often find myself wrapped up in too many of the textbook achievements that many would I expect from me, a lover of love, a lover of lovers. I relish time with the single girlies in my life, I want to hear about what they’re doing, how they’re happening to life, if they’ve taken a hobby, chosen not to take a lover, and what they think about the frozen croissants at Whole Foods in comparison to TJ’s. And I want to chat about things that are not my relationship, because its boringly happy and steady and that’s exciting to me, yes, but to very few others.
I really don’t care to talk about wedding planning, although it’s so sweet when the girls ask, no matter how much of my daily brain it consumes. I’ve got 5 minutes of sharing my moodboard in me before I say “Enough about that, girl. I’m in pottery class and my throws are still trash. You think I should finally cut my nails?” But I think too big a deal gets made about dating, engagement, marriage, kids etc in relationship to worth. I love to see the girls in love, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t think it makes you more interesting… or more valuable.
When this creative entrepreneurship thing wasn’t kicking my ass and the corporate girlie checks were still hitting (another newsy for another time dolls), I was sending bouquets or champagne or edible arrangements or dainty diamond necklaces or hotel stays to my homegirls on their birthday, or at the start of a new job, or when they got into grad school, or needed a night away from their man. I’ve gotten professional cleaners and closet organizers to help a friend in a time of messy transition. I’ve cleared my storage unit to decorate the homes of homegirls when they got their first place. I’ve schlepped soup on a pulley system to the balcony of friend with back-to-back COVID. But capitalism and my therapist who warns of unreciprocated care keep their yeti-sized boots on my neck these days, so I’ve had to find new limits. Some friends have felt the change, as have I, and noted that I have moved to a more intimate, “grocery-trip” approach. My life has changed so much and so has the way I allocate my resources. I give what I have to give. Can I cook for you, instead?
And cook I have. I came out of baking retirement to send overnight cookies from Charlotte to Brooklyn for a girlfriend’s son’s birthday. Only for her (I hate mailing food). Chicken parm meatballs loaded with barley, buttered noodles, roasted green beans and two hearty pot roast sammies with horseradish, arugula, pepper jam for our friends who had their first child in January. Creole shrimp and grits for a chill 30th birthday. A DIY cookie party for a girls-only holiday at my house. A Lasagna party on New Year’s Day. An impromptu DIY Pizza party. Brown Butter Birthday Cupcakes for a friend’s dinner. And taco night. And the biggest bag of food I’ve ever packed for my postpartum sister-in-law on our first visit to see them since the birth.
I keep a soft spot on me, and it shows up at the tips of my fingers for friends, for family. But I am especially tender for mothers. I’m on the side of tiktok where doulas share tips for postpartum care, and tips for abundant lactation, and how to maintain baby’s boundaries with family. It made me curious about what kind of support my own mom had when she gave birth to me. Aside from her own mom, nothing decidedly tangible. And that shit right there broke my heart.
So quietly, I’ve been learning all the things I wish my mom had access to so I can pass them on. Because she did a great job on her own, but what if she hadn’t had to? So the new and expectant mommies in my life are getting a lot of love by way of snacks and frozen breakfasts and frozen meals or hot meals and mocktails. But this doesn’t have to be just for moms.
If the spirit moves you, drop some food off to a friend starting school or a new job, or someone who’s grieving, or having a rough go of it, or an elderly community member.
Here’s a bunch of my favorite “care package” recipes. I made them into screenshots so you can easily save them. Love you. Mean it. Bye.