Sad Food

I probably should have begun this blog three years ago.

Then again, maybe not.

In 2008, after a business trip, my husband stopped interacting with me. He retreated behind a book, and after stopping behind him on the porch, massaging his shoulder, and receiving no response, let's just say my heart went dark. When it grew cold outside and he came inside and settled in with his book, I asked, "So, are we getting a divorce?

I expected, and hoped, that he would look up, laugh, and say "why do you say that?" Or, "We should talk. I'm not happy. What can we do to make this work."

Instead he said: "Yes."

Just like that. He gone off on his business trip and had arranged to meet up with his high-school Christian camp girlfriend. In the 19 years of our relationship, and ten years of marriage, we had never had an argument, and he had never said "I'm unhappy." In fifteen minutes, my best friend and my future life, were gone. He was gone. He stayed in the house a few weeks, and then moved into a cottage on the lake.

My best friend had been an illusion.

My story is no worse than yours, if you are sick and sad and alone. Mine may be easier. Maybe you have kids. Maybe you are older than I am and feel your options are more limited (they may not be!) Maybe you are losing your home because you can no longer afford it. Maybe your love did not leave you by choice. Maybe you had the perfect partnership and lost your love through sickness, age, or accident.

But almost certainly, you don't know how to eat. It seems to petty and meaningless somehow, because you used to share it with someone you loved. You've survived awhile on boxed macaroni and cheese, snack foods, or you've tipped far too much food into the garbage.

You just want someone to tell you what to eat, so you can concentrate on your broken heart. You don't want it to take too many ingredients. You don't want to spend too much time on it. You don't want to have to set a (single) place at the table. But you don't want your food to challenge you and win. You want your food to be a place where you succeed.

Maybe I should put "I" in there, instead of you. The only kind thing Mark said to me in the entire time he left was "Please do one thing for me....eat." Because when he came--finally--to get his things ("It looks like you died, Mark--you need to get your stuff") I had lost 20 pounds.

I don't know why you are sad. I just know I was, and still am. However now I can function, and I feel that I should provide something I could not find when I was absolutely crippled


I can tell you it will get better, but that is no help. I know you are hurting. I can only help you make one thing easier.

So here you go: Sad Food.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

1 tablespoon melted butter (to saute onion)
1 medium onion, chopped
3 additional tablespoons butter (added before flour)
2 cups chicken stock or broth
2 cups milk (half and half is not needed)
2 medium heads of fresh broccoli or three cups frozen
2 medium carrots, julienned (or your favorite cut)
8 oz (one brick) sharp chedder cheese
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder (or add 3 cloves chopped garlic to onion, being careful not to burn)
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce (optional; adds depth to flavor)
1/4 teaspoon nutmug (optional)
salt and pepper to taste

Saute onion (and garlic cloves if used) and 1 Tbsp butter/margarine in a large saucepan until tender
Add the additional butter until melted
Add flour, mix, and cook for 4 minutes
Slowly add chicken broth and mix
Slowly add milk and mix
Simmer 10 minutes. Never permit milk to boil hard
Add broccoli and carrots.
Simmer 30 minutes
Add cheese until melted.
Add Worcestershire sauce
Add salt and pepper to taste

Reheats well after refrigeration