Food is love. I cooked a big Israeli meal, with Schnitzel, Mujadara, homemade hummus, and potatoes, to a couple of dear friends of mine. I kept loading their plates with food and made sure they were fed well. I told them to not wait for me to finish cooking and eat it while it's hot - never understood the selfishness of some cooks. Aren't you cooking for the people to enjoy? Why wait until it's cold??
Anyway, I finally understood my mom. I would get mad when she would "take care of me too much", but I now understand the joy of caretaking, especially with food. Food is love for me, and cooking intentionally for others, intending to give joy, gave me joy. It was a first but would not be the last.
Oh, and the food was amazing. I was proud of that too.