Stress baking: food for the soul
What a year 2020 has been. Three months into the year and the pandemic became real in the U.S. and stay-at-home orders were the new norm. Six months into the year and my dear dad unexpectedly passed away. And now, three months later, my beautiful home state of Oregon, along with the rest of the West Coast, is on fire. This past week I’ve felt stuck in my house more than ever. In an effort to stop obsessively checking the evacuation level and air quality maps, I ended up in my kitchen. Stress baking. Anxiety cooking. Call it what you will.
On this particular day with my early morning cup of coffee in hand, I dove into making lemon ricotta blueberry pancakes. I baked a pear cinnamon crisp because I had a box full of pears from my sister and brother-in-law’s orchard calling my name. I made a batch of fudgesicles using Theo Chocolate for extra decadence. I prepped chicken in a honey lime cilantro marinade, grilled corn on the cob Elote style and chopped up a salad of cucumbers, scallions and avocado. By the time I cleaned up the kitchen, I was physically exhausted. Ah, but I accomplished so much. And the day was mentally and emotionally healing.
The idea of people cooking or baking to deal with anxiety during times of trouble is not new. Jenny G. Zhang of Eater explains anxiety baking as documented by The Atlantic’s Amanda Mull, in her article Quarantine Baking in Times of Crisis. The concept has gained increased attention in recent years with millennials spending more time in the kitchen and documenting their culinary results on social media, and most recently, with everyone from professional chefs to kitchen newbies quarantine baking.
Long before the practice was given a name, I’ve spent time in the kitchen as a way to relax and unwind. I’ve worked from home for the past 15+ years and I’m guilty of not being able to disconnect from technology and work. More than a couple times over the years, I remember saying on a particularly stressful workday, “I’d rather just bake cookies!” During quarantine, baking cookies is what my daughter and I did for therapy. When we weren’t baking, we joined Instagram Live stories in other people’s kitchens and watched the Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat documentaries where we fell in love with Samin Nosrat (and subsequently joined #thebiglasagna party). These food-related activities definitely helped improve our moods.
In this Bustle article, JR Thorpe outlines 7 Surprising Ways Cooking Can Boost Your Mental Health. The three that I identify with most are:
It Gives You a Reward at the End
The Creativity Makes You Feel Good
The Altruism of Cooking for Others is Good For You
In June when my Dad died, our family of 20 gathered at my childhood home for a number of days. Several cousins dropped off cookies and my cousin who formerly owned a bakery made us a cake. Roasted chickens and big loaves of bread arrived. A dinner kit from a neighbor turned into a soothing activity for one of my sisters and my son who prepped the meal. Not only were these acts of kindness restorative for us, but research has shown that the benefits of altruistic cooking are very real.
That couldn’t be any truer than now with the horrible wildfires that have left many people homeless and emotionally devastated. The Holiday Farm fire has hit especially close to home for me. Blue River, the beautiful little town where my mom grew up, essentially burned to the ground. As kids, we’d pile in the station wagon and take Sunday drives “up the river” to see Grandma and Grandad. I last visited the area two years ago and drove by my Grandma’s house. So many memories. Her carefully tended flowers in coffee cans on the porch. Making layered Jell-O desserts with my sister and cousin in grandma’s kitchen. Walking to the Blue River store to get a treat – I’d always pick a Creamsicle.
Several of my mom’s friends lost everything. She has one close friend whose house in Vida miraculously still stands – hauntingly alone, surrounded by total devastation. This same friend’s son owns Takoda’s restaurant 5-minutes away from the Holiday Farm Resort. It was spared. Fire is unpredictable and non-discriminatory of what’s in its path.
So, what did the restaurant owners do in the midst of all this devastation? The only thing they could do. They went to the kitchen, poured their emotions and distress into cooking, and fed the firefighters.