Comfort Beyond The Chemicals

Frozen food brings home to the dorms

Vincent Price

Remembering the Trader Joe’s frozen meals in my apartment fridge made me feel happy to be alive for the first time in months. It was a glimpse of stability amid all the uncertainty in my life. For context, I was taking a mental inventory of my fridge while showering at a mental hospital. I didn’t know when I’d get to go home or what I’d even do after that. My entire family was states away, my inbox was undoubtedly full of unanswered emails from my internship supervisor. God, what was my life going to look like when I got out? But I had food in the freezer. No matter what happened, I knew I could have dinner.

College is stereotypically the time for boxed mac ‘n cheese and instant noodles. Fast and cheap meals that get a lot of flack for being full of chemicals. The sort of “college student diet” of boxed and frozen foods tends to be looked down upon as sad, almost pathetic. However, it seems unfair to be overly critical of the way people eat when they’re taking care of themselves for the first time. Food is more than just sustenance, it’s care and comfort—almost as essential as calories. Why wouldn’t you enjoy pre-prepared foods when there’s nobody else to cook for you? What do we gain from thinking adulthood is about isolation, labor, and rejecting all forms of dependence? There’s no inherent nobility in having nobody to lean on.

Cooking is an important skill, and I enjoy it, but sometimes I want to eat without doing work. Beyond nutrients, I crave the comfort and safety of a ready meal. Living by yourself, hours away from home doesn’t take away the desire to hang up your coat, hug your parents, and sit down to eat at the end of the day. Sure, my mom’s cooking doesn’t taste like Trader Joe’s palak paneer, but I can almost feel her hand run through my hair when my dinner’s ready.