Matt Heath: Carrying the guilt of not eating mum’s packed lunches

"I believe preparing a packed lunch for another human is a non-trivial thing," writes Matt Heath.

OPINION:

The packed lunch represents all that is good in this world. It is one of the most powerful symbols of selflessness, love and humanity we have, and must be respected. These probably sound like exaggerated, pretentious claims, but I can totes back them up.

Last week 25-year-old target="_blank">Liza Stian drew criticism online over the intricate lunches she prepares for her husband. Stian spends hours on the meals. She bakes the bread, crafts duck-shaped bao buns and cooks and cuts the meat into heart shapes. Social media hit back at her wholesome gesture, bombarding her with comments like “he’s a grown man make him take care of his own meals”, “divorce him and cook lunch for yourself” and “why not do something worthwhile with your life?”

I couldn’t agree less with these comments. One of the most beautiful things we do as humans is take time out of our lives to prepare food for others. In the case of the packed lunch, it is particularly virtuous as the food is consumed when the maker is not around. You don’t share the meal, it’s prepared for the good of the other person. Stian likely enjoys the creative process and experiences the sweet buzz you get from helping another, but that only makes the gesture more righteous. Delighting in creating things that help others is surely a sign you’re a good person.

Many in academia support my grandiose view of food preppers. Culinary arts therapist at Lesley College Cambridge, Massachusetts, Michal AviShai, believes creating meals is deeply meaningful for both maker and receiver. As he wrote: “Giving to others fills us in so many ways, even more so when it’s cooking because feeding fulfils a survival need, and so our feeling of fulfilment comes not only from the good of the act of giving, but also the fact that we have ‘helped’ in some very primal way. We have given fuel.”

In his New York Times best-selling book Cooked, Micheal Pollan discusses the advantages that came to our species with the emergence of collective food preparation. According to him: “Cooking gave us the meal, and the meal gave us civilisation.”

The late great American celebrity chef, author and travel documentarian Anthony Bourdain put it this way: “Preparing food is everything we are. Your personal history, your province, your species, region, your tribe, your grandma.”

In these ways, Liza Stian’s dinky lunches are a profound continuation of what we are. They say something about humanity. They also fill me with a deep sense of shame and regret.

My mother lovingly prepared me a school lunch every day. I didn’t eat them. They sat in my bag and rotted. I would secretly dump them down a bank near our home. She spent so much of her precious time on this earth making food for me, and I didn’t respect it. Worst of all, I didn’t thank her for all these fantastic things she did for me before she died.

On the Matt and Jerry Breakfast Show on Radio Hauraki last week, we reached out to others who carry the guilt of not eating their mum’s lunches. A listener sent the following heartfelt message: “The Mummy Lunch Support Group you are forming really resonated with me. I, too, didn’t eat my mum’s lunches. I hiffed them into the neighbour’s yard when I got home to hide the evidence. One day he knocked on the door and asked my mum to stop me from shot putting her lunches into their property as it was creating a rat problem. That really hurt my mum. I could see it in her eyes.”

I believe preparing a packed lunch for another human is a non-trivial thing. It is a manifestation of our humanity that echoes back through the ages. A deeply meaningful act that taps into our primal instincts and satisfies both physical and psychological needs. Like any meal, the whole thing works best when a person’s act of kindness is met with a heartfelt expression of gratitude. This morning I made my kids a complex Sunday morning breakfast. I enjoyed making it; they loved eating it and were both very grateful. The system works.

To those who hassle Liza Stian’s beautiful creations, I say your anti-packed-lunch rhetoric is a rejection of all that is good in our species. Try spending your time giving to others rather than tearing down those who do. Viva la packed lunch.

Thanks, Mummy. I love you.

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