There’s a Maya Angelou quote that’s always resonated with me. It goes, “people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
I find immense value in this quote, and I come back to it whenever I am unsure of what I am doing. As a chronic overthinker, I tend to overemphasize the smallest minutiae of life when, in reality, I should be looking at the big picture. We as humans make mistakes. But it’s not our mistakes that define us, rather, it’s how we treat the people around us and show up for those that we care about.
When I think of this quote, I think about my Friendsgiving dinner that I hosted recently. I spent hours cooking and baking several dishes, decorating my table with Thanksgiving decorations and setting up my apartment to receive my friends. I won’t lie; while I was super excited about hosting a dinner in my apartment, I was also beyond anxious about every detail being perfect. No matter what I did, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. I worried about my pasta being overcooked, my salmon being too salty, my apartment not being tidy or organized enough...
Yet, at the end of the day, I was obsessing over theoreticals that weren’t even crossing anyone’s mind. What was truly important was being with my friends and sharing their company. For this reason, I’d like to add an addendum to the Angelou quote I mentioned, but this time, in regards to food: People will forget what you make, people will forget how you made it but people will never forget how your food made them feel.
Personally, I’ve always considered myself a foodie (here’s a shameless plug to my Instagram food account @foodworldeats!). But to me, food has always been more than just the meal I eat, or the dish I cook: It’s about bringing people together and forming memories.
Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve had such fond memories surrounded by food.
When visiting my grandparents in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, my memories began with excitement over trakinas: a sleeve of Brazilian chocolate-covered cookies that my grandparents would store high up in their cupboard for both my sister and I every time we arrived. Years later, my memories surrounding food continued to evoke feelings of familial comfort and joy, like every time my grandma would subtly ask me to sneak her a sweet from the kitchen (anything with sugar, because she was not picky, but her favorites were these Brazilian cookies called mentirinhas). I hold these memories dearly, and it’s these foods that to this day, remind me of my grandma’s laughter and my grandparents’ overall attention to detail.
Memories with food also bring me back to first experiences. For example, I’m reminded of when one of my mom’s great-aunts served me beet juice when I was visiting Tel Aviv, Israel for the first time as a kid. This aunt was already in her 90s at the time, and while I was definitely not the biggest fan of the juice, I’ll never forget her infectious smile or the warmth she made us feel while hosting us.
I’m also reminded of my first time in Los Angeles, Calif., when my dad’s elderly cousin insisted on making me an egg sandwich — despite her being partially blind and also in her 90s — because she feared that I’d go hungry. It’s weird that these memories are from over a decade ago, yet to this day, I think about how these family members made me feel. They treated me with such care and compassion, and these feelings stick with me to this day.
Food also brings me back to special occasions and birthdays. On the last day of school throughout my childhood, my grandma would always take my sister and I to a diner (or even IHOP!) where I excitedly awaited a celebratory stack of pancakes. Further, on birthdays, I think back to the brigadeiro cake with a spider web design that my family orders annually. Or, if we were feeling a change in pace, we would order my dad’s favorite — the Carvel ice cream cake with chocolate crunchies. (If we were feeling extra special, we would even ask for a custom-made photo design on top). All of this showcases how food — to me — is about celebrating: It’s about coming together and enjoying each other’s presences through the highs and lows of life.
I think this is why Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. It’s an excuse to gather around the table with family and friends and to talk the night away (it’s also an annual celebration of my aunt’s delicious sweet potato casserole with marshmallows).
In all seriousness, I’ve come to learn that it’s the people around us that make these memories so special. Whether it’s on Thanksgiving, on Friendsgiving or during any day in between, it’s about coming together and being there for one another. Throughout my upbringing, so many people have impacted me through food. In this sense, I hope to do the same as I continue to cook and eat alongside my family and friends.
Because at the end of the day, who cares if the pasta is overcooked or if the salmon is too salty. It’s not about that. It’s about the people around us — it’s about how we make them feel.
Gabriel Lesser is a graduate student from Westchester, N. Y. in the Department of Mental Health at the Bloomberg School of Public Health. His column explores his memories along with his current reflections and the lessons that he has learned.
