On Love and Baked Beans

I think it's time for me to spill the beans. I've been mulling it over for a long time, how to tell you all the news, and as long as I couldn't figure out how to tell it, I thought it best just to keep it to myself. It's been a long time since I've had much of an appetite for cooking, is the thing. And writing about cooking when you're not in the mood to eat isn't a lot of fun, not for the writer and not for the readers, either.

The truth is, Ben and I parted ways a few months ago. It was a long, hard winter in more ways than one. But we did our very best, I think, tried as hard as we could.

Ben was a huge part of this website, a loyal eater and regular inspiration for the posts I wrote, so his absence in my life is making blogging harder than I expected. Part of it was the elephant-in-the-room effect. But cooking for one, as I think many of you know, can be tough, too. Newspaper recipes don't inspire me and I can't seem to work up an appetite for much beyond spaghetti with tomato sauce and the occasional salad.

Tonight, standing in line at the grocery store with my dutiful purchases of low-fat yogurt, fibrous cereal and pre-washed arugula, I suddenly got the urge, rather the hunger, for baked beans. When I was a little girl, my father made baked beans from a can on a regular basis and for me, it's one of my most reliable comfort foods. I couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to me sooner. I zipped out of the line to the bean aisle, grabbed a can and finished checking out.

And indeed, as I ate them heated up and spooned onto a plate with braised kale, it felt good to finally be hungry for something. Cloying, fudgy, vinegary baked beans: who knew that they'd be the things that would make me actually want to enter my kitchen again? The mind and the stomach work in mysterious ways.

And you know, despite all the rain that seems to be following me from New York to Los Angeles to Berlin and back, life keeps surprising me with unexpected moments of joy and peace. I'm holding onto those with one hand and a can of baked beans with the other. Bear with me as I find my way back to the stove.

Comments

[Honeybee]

And I forgot to say: I think baked beans are great! I once did a post on them: http://beurreetpain.blogspot.com/2007/01/beans-on-toast-mediterranian-style.html

Take care.

[Lynh]

Hi Luisa, I was at marlow & daughters this weekend, buying rancho gordo beans. I was perusing your site for inspiration - Indian yellow woman beans (as you said, you were in love with these and you cannot mess with a woman in love!) or limas to make a diane kochilas recipe you had posted about.
Just wanted to tell you!
Also, a book recommendation for you, Tolstoy Lied by Rachel kadish. Maybe you'll like it, maybe not? Just an interesting story to take your mind off. You're in my thoughts, and thanks for sharing with me, your humble admirer.

[Shawna]

Every morning I sit down with a cup of coffee and click open the door to your world. On the days there isn't a post, I'm wondering what's going on and how you are doing. So strange to feel you know a stranger as a friend. Thank you Luisa for being the kind of friend we all would like to be. There for the other in good times and sad ones. We're all here girl! You know that saying about one door closing so another can open? It's going to be AMAZING!
With love,

Shawna

[Christine]

Luisa, I am so sorry things are not easy right now. I'm hoping for much happiness to come your way and crossing my fingers that it will coincide with more food that you will share here.

Wishing you the best!

[agatha]

luisa,
you don't know me but i've been following your blog for a while now. so sad to hear your news but this too shall pass. after a bad break up of mine the only thing i could eat for a week on end was buttered toast with sugar and hot sweet tea.

give yourself lots of "me" time and the inspiration will come back to you soon. good luck - you will get through this difficult time.

[Christina]

I'm really sorry to hear this news, and I'm also sorry you've been going through such pain. Take all the time you need, and take care of you.

[evy]

Sending good thoughts and prayers your way

[The Hungry Roach]

XOXOXOXO (you can always cook for me - I hear ya on cooking for one!)

[Heather]

Thank you for sharing, Luisa; my heart goes out to you. Do take all the time you need - we will be here, waiting patiently.

[Carolyn T]

Having been there myself once, long ago, I SO understand how you feel. You should be very proud of yourself that you WERE able to blog during this time. And yes, time is the slow healer. I've recommended a book to others - How to Survive the Loss of a Love. It's old, but when I was newly separated way long ago, I couldn't concentrate on things - this has just one-page helps. Do something nice for yourself every single day, Luisa. Also try to think of one thing each day that you're grateful for. Your blogging fans are rooting for you. Healing will come. God bless you.

[Phyllis]

Luisa, sending you a hug and a hope that you can trust in your strength and your own peace right now. So happy you found the baked beans!

[Rachel]

So sorry to hear your news. Be gentle with yourself and take things slowly.

Take care, R. xx

[anonymous]

I don't have time to read all the comments right now--although I'm sure they are all beautiful--but I was struck by the one at the very top, that said "how truly human of you to share this with us." I agree completely.

I'm a longtime reader, though I don't believe I've ever commented, and I just wanted to thank you for your blog, and thank you for opening your heart to us. I'm sorry for the hard times, and I hope you know there are good times ahead (the beauty of life = there are always happy days and sunshine to chase away the sadness and the rain. And I still believe that, even after a month of June packed solid with rain here in NYC!).

Here's a hug, sister.

[Amanda Nicole]

Isn't it funny how blogging can make life's twists and turns easier at some times, and more difficult at others? I admire your strength and grace in dealing with such an enormous thing. I wish you all the best.

And I know what you mean about the baked beans - Heinz, maple-flavoured ones to be exact. My mom used to add chopped up, fried wieners and it was the prefect thing on a drizzly day.

[sara]

Sorry to hear you are having a rough time but I am glad that baked beans inspired you to get back into the kitchen.

[Leisureguy]

I've gone through divorce and it's a tough time. You are taking care of yourself, and in time you'll feel whole again and ready to cook. Love and support from me and all your readers. Although it's an odd book to mention, perhaps, Mindset is quite helpful in understanding the nature of challenges and how we resond.

[Emily]

I'm another longtime reader who has never commented, but after your beautiful and heartbreaking honesty, I had to.

I was at a similar point last year. It was so hard to cook and eat alone. Food lost it's taste for awhile. But I lived through the emptiness and on the other side, I came out much stronger and with a lot more clarity of what I want. You will too and you'll find your way back to cooking. It will always be there. For now, take as much time as you need. You are a truly incredible writer, whatever the subject!

[Annie]

Luisa,

So sorry to hear your sad news. I was deeply moved by it, and by all the support and kind words people are sending you. I am a reader of food blogs, and I am astounded at the level of friendship and support there is among you. Good friends and time will get you through, along with your food of choice, whatever it would be. For me, chocolate is my healer. Take care of yourself during this difficult grieving process.
A Canadian reader, Annie.

[Kimberly]

It is so hard when life throws curve balls. When our youngest son was born with a chronic illness that required 6 weeks in the NICU I thought goodness and normalcy would never return. My diet for the first year of Vincenzo's life consisted of progresso chickarena soup, coffee and peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

I think it was a loaf of foccacia that finally kicked my tastebuds and kneading hands back into kitchen. Give yourself time and whatever else you need.

Best Wishes for healing and comfort.

[Katie]

I'm touched by your honest post, and glad to hear that a taste of comfort food inspired you again. I've been there, and I know it's hard. But I have a feeling you'll be just like new in no time. Here's to finding your way back into the kitchen!

[Charmaine]

Luisa,

You will survive and your cooking will actually be part of your healing process; my thoughts are with you during this hard transition, but know that you have a loyal following who will be with you every step of the way.
Hugs,
Charmaine

[Anne]

How utterly crappy. But. There are many, many advantages to cooking for one. The best one being that you don't have to consider another's (weird)food aversions. Other pluses include eating out of the pot while watching trash television.

[Carole]

I have noticed a change in your tone/passion but I hope you won't feel that you need to stop completely! There are plenty of us "alone" out there or whose lives have seen better days. Feel free to write about what you do eat, want to eat or think about eating. You will please us...

[jen]

you are so brave. I really admire your courage to open up and share something so personal.

I think for me it has always felt more natural to embrace these changes. adjusting to the drastic events and changes in my life have often been my most creative and expressive.

[ann]

I knew something was up. I could tell through your writing. I'm so sorry, but I hope it's for the best. If you ever need a bean-eating buddy, I'm here for you. Take your time, we'll be here for you.

[Maija]

Thank you for trusting us with your news. This may sound strange, but so often on blogs (and in real life), we only read love stories. It can make one feel more lonely when everyone else seems so perfectly happy.

A little sadness comes into all of ourlives. But like cooking, that tartness is balanced with the sweet moments. I always believe everything happens for a reason, and I definitely believe in the comfort of baked beans - one of my fave foods, no matter what great gourmet heights my palate encounters.

[Tisha]

Dear Luisa,
Endings can be so hard, but it sounds like you know that you've been doing right by yourself.

My thoughts go with you.

[Tracy]

I don't know if I've ever commented here, but I've been reading for awhile. I'm sorry to hear this, so much. That's so tough, in more ways than is imaginable. Deep breaths, take your time, and I know you'll find your way again.

[Lydia]

Luisa, my heart reaches out to you. Thank you for your candor and your warmth.

-- Longtime reader

[Bobbie]

I'm chiming in with all the others who admire your honesty and lucidity; who offer our support; who wish you much happiness when the time is right; and who assure you that we'll stay tuned and will love to hear from you whenever you're ready to cook and write.

[Lee]

Gosh. This makes my heart hurt. I'm glad you are finding comfort.

[Annie]

Thank you for sharing so graciously. Here's to comfort in whatever guise (or tin) you might find it!

[Zoomie]

When I'm alone, I make this summer sandwich. Whole wheat toast with a little scrape of mayo topped with ripe tomato, slices of ripe avocado, a grinding of pepper and a squeeze of lemon juice. Open faced. A little easy, delicious comfort. I hope it helps. Sending healing energy.

[dc, seattle]

Recently healing from a breakup myself, I feel your pain and wish you comfort in every way it can come to you. You have lovely unique voice and your posts make me smile - your strength inspires me; hang in there.

[AG]

I actually started reading this blog coming out of a similar break up a year ago. Cooking brought me back in many ways and brought me into people's lives in a new way. I appreciate that so much--and I am sure that there will be a number of things that you appreciate so much long after this. But in the interim, know that you have brought people back a little bit, too...

[paige]

hope you are feeling better. i recently found a recipe of my grandmother's for baked beans. they are really good. it makes me feel a little better eating baked beans by adding additional ingredients.

Grandma Nelle's Baked Beans
2 (16oz.) cans baked beans
6 slices of bacon
1c. chili sauce
3/4 tsp dry mustard
1T. onion, grated
1/3c. brown sugar
1 T. molasses
Cut bacon in small pieces and fry until crip. Mix all ingredients together. Bake at 300-325 for 2-3 hours, stirring occasionally.

[Anna]

Promise to take care of yourself first, the rest will follow!
XOXO

[Shannalee]

Seems like you found a beautiful way to say this, when you were ready. And you'll find a beautiful way to do everything else, one can of baked beans at a time, in the days ahead.

[jenniferW]

Hi Luisa, from another silent, long-time reader,
Just wanted you to know I'm sending happy thoughts up your way, for healing and renewal, of your appetite and your heart. We'll be here waiting when you're ready, so take your time. Hugs!

[mm]

I'm so sorry to hear about you and your fiancee. I hope you'll be feeling better soon.

[maryn]

all of your readers hug you from afar (me too).

[Clara]

I am sorry for your heavy heart. As others have said, the kitchen shall find you again. I savor your words, regardless of their context, and am grateful that you gave us a chance to know what's really going on in your life right now. Thank you.

[jacqueline]

i just cried. i thank you so much for you. x

[Eleana]

I admire your candidness about your life. I discovered your blog while I was dating my boyfriend (he may have sent it to me, I think) and made him so many things from here: your potato foccacia bread, asian shrimp risotto, marzella haan's tomato sauce, coconot-ginger rice ... we parted ways a few weeks back as well, and everytime I browse through your recipes, I think of him too and sometimes it does still hurt. I haven't felt like cooking much since either

[Lynnerkat]

My gram used to make big vats of baked beans when I was a kid- the best part for me was the bacon on the top- I was not a big fan. Every time I eat baked beans now, I think of her. So sorry for your troubles. In a similar situation, I would tell myself "a year from now things will be better". Thanks for your wonderful posts and sharing your life.

[hanna]

shared tears and a steady flame of hope to you from me on the other side of the globe.

[anna]

I was wondering where you were! I'm so sorry to hear that things didn't work out, but from what I've read here over the last few months you're a strong woman and you'll get through this. Maybe not all at once, but sooner or later.

[tina]

thanks for sharing, for trusting, for loving. When I blog I often tell it all, more than you perhaps wanted to know---- the end result is that the world is a better place as we all remember that we are human and frail and wonderful each to their own. I salute you and send you the gift of time and peace.

[Azelia Torres]

You are worth so much more...you just need to see it.

Come to London and I'll show you around its culinary delights to inspire you.

Or join my extended family this Summer in Northern Portugal for a breath of fresh air.

[Gadia]

If I was single and a boy (rather than a slightly harassed mother of 2) I would be trying to get up the courage to ask you on a date...You are lovely and don't you forget it!