Lunchbox

There is nothing more everyday than food. And nothing more beautiful than everyday sustenance. And nothing, absolutely nothing more beautiful than your mom's cooking. Go on now - you know your mum was your favorite chef in the world, and no Michelin star will compare to the star stickers that mom sent you in your school lunchbox.

Lunchboxes are everyday love letters from your mom. Your history, culture, customs, rituals, the love of your entire lineage - all packed into a little rectangular box designed to fill you up with the satiety of nutrition and health.

My mother was my favorite chef too, and nothing else compared, till I started cooking for my son. Before him - I was the world's laziest, most reluctant, most terrible cook, and my husband became so adept at ordering in that we joked he should list that skill in his professional resume.

Even till the pandemic I didn't really cook - but I suddenly knew what generations of moms had been thinking, their generational wisdom beginning to channel through to me the minute I started packing lunchboxes - some good carbs, protein, fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds, low sugar, as much nutrition that I can pack into a couple of boxes as I send him forth into the big bad world, one small, fun item to brighten his day, just in case he is having a bad one. Each bite carefully cut, wrapped, packed so he doesn't get hurt, no spills, no choking hazards, no messy fingers. Just bites of pure devotion, a language that screams out - I love you, that love is not hidden, slanted or difficult to get to, even when words are difficult. Here's some vitamins and minerals.

And so - a lunchbox.

I still hate to cook, but he loves my 'dabbas' so much that he prefers them to his school's fancier, better-tasting midday snack program. And I was such a lousy, pretend homemaker, that my morning ritual consisted of photographing the boxes everyday, so I would have ideas to pull up quickly from my phone's gallery, on blurry mornings when I am still a zombie, and they are a readymade answer to that infernal, everyday, exasperating, all-encompassing, yet beautiful question - what should I make today?