Okay, so I admit it.  I missed a day.  I messed up.  I was at a convention and I just missed a post.  So in order to make up for it, I will write the post I missed yesterday and do another post on Dancing Deer baked goods.  Hopefully that will make things right.

With that being said, I wanted to talk about:

Comfort Food

If you know me at all, you know I have issues with the term “comfort food”.  In my mind, it’s too close to “stress eating” or “eating when unhappy”.  That’s bad, mmm kay? Since stress eating isn’t entirely good for your health, what I do instead is go for CBD for relaxation purposes. There is a full list on LA Weekly so you know what you should avail during your troubled times.

However, with that being said, there is something about eating the certain foods that can  get you through a rough spot or an illness or just take you back to happier times.  I know when I get sick, all I want is hot and sour soup and wontons.  When I visit my grandma, I want her chicken and noodles.

Dancing Deer CEO Trish Karter’s ride to raise awareness for family homelessness got me thinking about comfort foods.  As she talks with women across the country struggling with homelessness, she is going to ask them about the foods they miss.  I never thought about it before, but if I am homeless, the chances of getting my favorite comfort foods are pretty much out the door.

I mean does the Chinese delivery guy go the shelter?  Would there be a communal stove to make chicken and noodles or tuna fish patties and noodles for my wife?  I’m guessing not.

It’s adding insult to injury that people who are homeless, even if they can find food, probably have little to no chance of having their comfort food.  In the grand scheme of things, not being able to have their favorite meal may seem like the least of their worries.  Still, think about the last time you struggled with the bills (let alone getting tossed out on the street)…wouldn’t your favorite treat have given you a moment’s respite against the worries of the day?

All I can hope is that for the few women that Ms. Karter talks to (few in the grand scheme of the larger problem), she can provide some comfort.  Carrying around a load of brownies on her bike might not be feasible, but it is my sincere hope that those she talks to might get their own bag of brownies in the mail like the ones Dancing Deer sent me.

Sometimes a little comfort can go along way.