Food For Remembrance, Comfort, & Grief.
tw: death | healing through food and the stories they can hold
Preface / Why share this. I’ll mention later in this newsletter how it feels hard to just jump back into the “real world” happening around me while my world has felt at a pause or a blur. This is my way of easing back in, and articulating for my own self and healing. But also because food is nothing to me without story or history. I love food blogs, newsletters, cookbooks, etc. that give context to their recipe or food content; like recreating a recipe from a trip they’ve been on or a restaurant they really loved growing up. Adaption to recipe that’s been in the family for years, or what was cooked during family holidays. Restaurants, recipes, and food hold memories. It’s my favorite story to hear, favorite to talk about, and if food is for sharing, the stories and memories behind them should be too.
Last Monday, October 23rd, I lost my grandfather, Kenneth “Ken” Ray (mom’s side).
10 days before the anniversary of losing my nana, Cheryl Darlene (dad’s side) 14 years ago.
He went into the hospital the Tuesday prior for chest pain and shortness of breath. Doctor discovered two small blood clots in this lungs one day, and two large ones in his legs the next. One procedure one day and a surgery the next, all in hopes of heading home by the weekend. But on that Saturday a scan showed massive brain bleed, so he was made comfortable and fought hard till that Monday at 10:35pm.
I thought that having lost a grandparent, a great great grandparent, and a friend in high school before would make this loss “easier.” Like I would have more tools under my belt, but I think it made me more anxious. I knew what was to come. I knew the pain ahead. Grief was no stranger. As a 16 year old however, I thought I was more “protected.” Us grandkids stayed at home. I saw my family in high stress and grief, but I didn’t know the details. I would do short visits, but I wasn’t in the hospital room while decisions were being made, or other “grown up” talk, nor for her actual passing. Now, I am the grown up. I was getting the details. I was in the room with my grandmother and family while decisions were being made. I was in the room for the 2 whole days of awaiting the inevitable, holding his hand until he took his last breath. Though painful, I’m grateful to have been there.
What I think made my heart break most of all is that I’m also now a wife, witnessing my grandmother lose her husband of 63 years. It reminded me of what is to inevitably come in Z and I’s future. As painful as that was to experience, it was also beautiful. Watching my grandmother repeat her vow, and keep to it, no matter how much it pained her. Her dedication to him and his wishes and wants they discussed as they aged, for what to do in this dreadful moment. She set a beautiful example of marriage, devotion, and love.
I’ve been told a million times in the last week by my loving community that grief is love unexpressed or grief is the proof of the depth of your love. I believe that to be true. Grief is funny, it’s both immense pain and suffering, and immense love and joy. Though the days spent in the hospital were painful, they were also so beautiful. My grandfather had his whole family around, his wife, three children and their spouses, and two of his granddaughters. We cried. We cheered for his favorite sport players. We listened to a song Z wrote for him. We told stories. We joked. We laughed. My grandfather was a big jokester and the biggest storyteller. He always had a memory from his life to share, even if we heard it a million times before. His days at the beach with his surfing crew, his high school days, etc. He knows San Diego, and especially Pacific Beach/Mission Bay more than anyone else I know.
Everything lately feels like a blur. Experiencing a sudden loss makes the world feel upside down. Or like life has come to a roaring hault. I haven’t had the energy or the mental capacity to recipe test, to create food content, or to engage in any normalcy for that matter. So when attempting to think about how I step back into my work, this work, this space, what felt doable was highlighting food as a means to remember, to bring comfort, and to grieve. For the rest of the days back home in San Diego, after my grandfather’s passing, I ate my through some of his favorite foods and spots.
Siesel’s Meats is a high quality meat market, deli, and mini grocery in my childhood neighborhood. My family has been going here since before I was born, and we all still love stopping into the deli for lunch. My grandfather loved sandwiches. Especially a classic italian sub/hoagie. He would get Siesel’s Spicy Italian (which isn’t spicy at all..btw) that has salami, mortadella, provolone, red onion, tomato, lettuce, mustard, mayo, red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper. A perfect ratio of meat to veg, and the ideal amount of mustard, mayo, and vinegar. I love an italian hoagie, and will forever be a sandwich girl in his honor.
Siesel’s also carries pies from Julian Pie Company, an iconic mom and pop bakery up in Julian, CA. We picked up half of an original apple and a half of a dutch apple, that has a crispy crumble on the top, to share with my grandma and family. My grandfather loved pies. Berry pies and apple pies were definitely his favorite. My grandma is our pie baker for the holidays. Whether I was at the holiday lunch or not, my grandpa always would call and tell me all the pies my grandma was making. Him and my grandma love desserts, especially baked goods and ice cream. Everytime I visited home, I would always make sure to bake something to bring down with me for them to have. I will miss bringing him my baked goods the most.
Right next door to Siesel’s is Bay Park Fish Co. My grandfather requested to go here all the time. Everytime I would visit home it was a must on the itinerary. In fact, this is where my grandfather and I had our last meal together— some crispy calamari with a lime-mint dipping sauce, and two fish tacos (the classic battered and fried fish, with cabbage, salsa fresca & crema, on a corn tortilla). He also loved the fish and chips, or— of course being the sandwich guy— the tuna melt on sourdough bread or their calamari torta; panko crusted calamari with lettuce, tomato, onion, remoulade sauce. To wash it all down it was either an iced black tea, unsweetened with lemon, or a Salty Crew Pale Ale from Coronado Brewing.
Sardina’s Italian Restaurant and Bar is a family owned and run restaurant also in my childhood neighborhood that I can’t even remember or count how many birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, or even just family get-togethers we have celebrated and eaten together here. Always an order of the garlic cheese bread and an antipasto or house salad with italian vinaigrette. My grandma always needs the pizza, and my grandfather loved their linguine with white clam sauce. They do not shy away from the clam meat! Perfectly light and garlicky. The only time my grandfather attempted to talk and open his eyes in the hospital is when my stepdad told him, “come on, we need to go to Sardina’s and get some linguine and clams!
Mr. Frostie is a soft serve ice cream shop in Pacific Beach. My grandfather was the 3rd or 4th person in line on their opening day in 1949. This place is 100% nostalgia for me. For all of my childhood my grandparents took care of me during the summer when school was out and my parents were at work. My grandma watched me most of the time because my grandfather also worked. Which, maybe at this point in this letter it’s a little late to mention that my grandma has always been grandma, or my grandfather would call her granny to us, or Sal (her name is Sally). I would still call my grandfather grandpa, but whenever we greeted each other I’d say “Hello Grandfather!” and he’d say “Hello Granddaughter!” or “Heeeeey Court!” Anyway back to Mr. Frostie— If there was a day during the week that my grandfather had off, or took a half day, he would drive the three of down to the “Frostie Shop” for a cool treat before or after a trip to the PB pier/beach. My favorite has always been a swirl, sometimes with a chocolate or sprinkle dip. My grandfather also loved their malt shake or a cherry coke. They also had sandwiches.. which by now in this letter you can know and assume he also loved! I will never forget the many summers taking a drive to Mr. Frostie listening to “Grandpa Music.”
So here is to food to help bring comfort in the midst of grief and the memories that will forever live within me. I love you grandfather. Will miss you always and remember you forever.
As mentioned in the preface— food + memories/their history within us and our families is my favorite thing to read and talk about. My dm’s, emails, comments, etc. are always open to hear about your food memories with your loved ones. Some of my favorite food storytellers are
Take care, and keep your loved ones close.
❤️ Courtney
held on to this waiting to have a moment to step in deeply. absolutely beautiful tribute. a gift to read, thank you for sharing 🤎
Thanks for sharing Courtney 💛 so lovely to hear about the life your grandpa lived and the food mems that y’all shared together.