One of the biggest adjustments we’ve made this summer has been learning how to meet my brother-in-law where he is, instead of expecting him to meet us where we are.
In Türkiye, so much of life happens around the table. If you’ve ever seen a traditional Turkish breakfast, you know it isn’t just breakfast. The table is covered with cheeses, olives, eggs, breads, tomatoes, cucumbers, jams, honey, and more. Tea is offered almost constantly, usually with biscuits or lokum. Order a kebab at a restaurant, and before the main dish even arrives, the table fills with salads, appetizers, fresh bread, and endless little sides, many of them refilled without even asking.
Food here isn’t just about eating. It’s how people gather, celebrate, comfort one another, and spend time together.
When we first arrived, my brother-in-law wasn’t able to eat by mouth at all. The progress he’s made in just a few short weeks has been incredible, and it’s a testament to his determination and the hard work he’s is putting into his recovery. Right now, all of his meals still need to be puréed, but that doesn’t mean they have to be bland or joyless.
I’ve always believed that food should nourish both the body and the soul. When someone is healing, nutrition matters. Calories matter. Protein matters. But so do flavor, color, aroma, and the simple comfort of eating something that feels like a real meal instead of a medical necessity.
Lately, creating dishes around his nutritional needs has become as much a creative outlet as a necessity. Every meal has to be calorie-dense, rich in protein, fiber, and nutrients, but still taste like something you’d actually want to eat.
Lunch was a creamy soup made from oven-roasted garlic, onions, and red peppers, blended with chicken, chicken stock, and plenty of cream until it was perfectly smooth. Roasting the vegetables first gave the soup a sweetness and depth you just can’t get by boiling them.
Dessert was a little more fun.
One pudding was made with fresh apricots, strawberries, and cream. The other looked every bit like a rich chocolate pudding, but it was actually steamed sweet potatoes and bananas blended with dark chocolate and Nutella until silky smooth. Both were calorie-dense, which is important for his recovery, but more importantly, they tasted like dessert.
It’s easy to think of a puréed diet as something restrictive. I’m trying to think about it differently. It’s an opportunity to create meals that are beautiful, satisfying, and something he can genuinely look forward to eating alongside the rest of us.
Because at the end of the day, the goal isn’t simply to make sure he gets enough calories. It’s to make sure he still gets to experience one of the most important parts of Turkish family life: sitting around the table, sharing a meal, and being part of the conversation.
Recovery is hard enough. If a meal can provide comfort, bring back a favorite flavor, or simply make someone smile for a few minutes, then it’s doing more than feeding the body.
It’s feeding the person.
Note:Working on the recipe section of the blog so I can finally start adding all of these recipes. After a 10-year hiatus, the HTML and organization of this site need a complete overhaul. 😬
