This morning with family over breakfast, I was reminiscing about the importance of FOOD in a Southern Family, and how Grandma, who lived with us, was a fantastic Southern cook (these days she’d have been called quite possibly a house-bound chef).

Though to be sure, by the time I came along much of the family had relocated to California. However, inside the house was the South with all its hospitality and warmth. Beyond those walls was the West Coast. The students at our schools came from all regions of the country, as well as the world—England, Poland, Japan and other countries.

I became acutely aware of the difference for the first time when I was in high school and casually and on the spur of the moment asked a friend to stay for dinner. His response surprised me: “What are you having for dinner?” I said, “Probably steak, again.”

I was really surprised when he shook his head and said in a serious tone of voice, “Someone doesn’t drop in for dinner at my house, especially if we are having steak.” I asked him where his parents came from and it definitely wasn’t the South. I knew then that these were subtle differences between us. The older I’ve gotten, the more I realized that my early observation carried over to a host of other differences (generally) from people who came from either different regions of our country or other parts of the world.

Back to the FOOD.

Later today, I was thinking about the importance of meals in my novel “The Big House.” Whether it’s an unexpected plate of food thrown against the wall in Chapter 1, OR the filling country breakfasts at the Big House that provide the beginning to many a story to unfold, OR the incredible feast and opulence one night for the Hollywood Crowd, who’d come to be entertained and regaled by the patriarch in “Hollywood,” FOOD is the expression of not just well-being and status, but of LOVE.

THEN, there is either the lack of or fear of the lack of food that becomes a searing reality later for some of the people in the book, including Minnie, the principal character of the book.

It got me to thinking how ‘critically nurturing experiences’ can come in small ways and in small things that gives one a feeling of well-being as opposed to a feeling of emotional deprivation. A puzzle for those of you who have read my book: Can you guess in what small way and in what small thing critical nurturing for the principal character occurs?

Actually, the more I pondered the subject the more I realized that what seemed like simple acts were essential experiences moving Minnie from childhood to an all-too-early adulthood. Self-awareness, and with it transformation, occurs slowly and often times painfully.

Back to FOOD again.

My grandmother had a recipe (actually a few) that I’ve never known anyone else to have. I thought maybe I’d just contact the Food Network and drop these delicious travelers into someone’s lap, or, maybe I’ll just drop them right here on the blog and let them work their way to your kitchen.

Well, talk to y’all again—real soon.