Every family has a signature dish — the one that magically appears at every holiday, potluck, or Sunday dinner. For some, it’s Grandma’s mac and cheese. For others, it’s that mysterious casserole no one can quite recreate.
Food carries memory. It’s tradition made edible. It’s how we show love without words — a warm bowl of soup when someone’s sick, a surprise dessert when someone’s sad, a table full of comfort when the world feels too heavy.
So yes, maybe food is a love language after all.