The roots of my interest in Plenty

The first quote I remember reading that touched on this is from Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions: "...I wanted Sam to grow up with the sense that it's safe to fall, that there's enough of the important stuff in the world for him, including Band-Aids. I still secretly worry that there isn't enough love, or money, or acclaim, and I have to do all I can to make sure I get my fair share." I think a lot of people feel this way. That life is a zero-sum game in which something good happening to someone else means less good for me. This obviously does not lead to a feeling of Abundance.

I had an impression, in brushes with Europe and Europeans, that there was often a feeling of plenty growing out of small amounts of things: simple jewelry; small jars of preserved fruit.

I had a friend and roommate who seemed to cultivate a feeling of plenty in our house on the one day a week when she wasn't working her two jobs. She would shop and then cook a big meal on that one day, and even though it seems like much of it wouldn't get eaten, there was a feeling of abundance. There was also something about her kitchen, how it was designed and decorated, the appliances and utensils, in addition to the food, that reminded me of Under the Tuscan Sun, another example of European feelings of Abundance.

When I first started talking about getting an apartment with my then-future-husband, I was overcome by this idea that we would be able to finally live like grownups (I was 30 at the time), and I remember saying, thinking of the refrigerator, "We'll have juice in our house." I said it over and over, with different inflection, marveling at the possibilities and implications. Juice. In our house. Which is funny, because I don't usually drink juice because I think it is too sugary. The phrase is still powerful for me, even though I still don't quite understand why.

And lately, when I'm thinking about cooking for my husband and two kids, and am grasping for a model of family culinary abundance, I often think of the mother of a friend from elementary school. As I remember, a very dedicated stay-at-home mom with four sons. I remember hearing his friends talk about all the food there always was at their house. At this point, I have no idea how much detail was provided and how much I have filled in, but in my mind, on any given day, there is a big table with platters of spaghetti and meatballs, fried chicken, pots of soup, trays of lasagne, desserts, etc. Plenty for four athletic sons and any friends who might stop by. I spend a lot of time imagining this, and trying to work out the details and logistics of this kind of cooking.