When my grandmother lost her husband, she not only entered a period of mental grieving, but moreover found daily tasks to be unimaginably difficult. From not knowing which valve to press if a toilet was broken to how to fix the car when the engine light would show up, her life changed in drastic ways. What she didn’t expect, however, was how difficult it would be to open the fridge, turn to the stove, and punch numbers into the microwave. It never crossed her mind how hard it would be to plan a dinner party, go to a restaurant alone, or how it would feel to walk down supermarket aisles — grasping a shopping cart handle without him by her side. 

After wrapping up her shopping, she’d make her way to the checkout line where she would stare down at the contents in her basket. Bread for two, his favorite can of soup, and a cake to share. She pushed back the thought that he was no longer with her — that the bread would go stale within a few days. She was still shopping for two, but only eating for one. 

For widows, there are triggers everywhere surrounding mealtime. Michele Zawadzki, a widow, notes that “you get home, you’re still by yourself, and you’re used to cooking in a certain way. You’re used to cooking for two — you want to prepare two plates of salmon and scoop out ice cream to share. It’s debilitating.” 

The oftentimes hidden connection between food and mourning runs deep in almost all cultures and traditions. Communities often bring dishes to a widow in the weeks of months following a devastating death. But for a spouse, accustomed to sharing each meal with a partner, the grieving can be prolonged and is often unintentionally renewed by the continuous nature of shopping, cooking, and eating. 

“Cooking and mealtimes are some of the most overlooked aspects of grief,” said Heather Nickrand, the lead author of a study concerning widows and health risks. “How many people are actually asked: ‘How’s the cooking or grocery shopping going? Are you eating O.K?’” 

Certain counselors have begun to address the relationship between mealtime and mourning. At meals hosted by The Dinner Party, an innovative organization that has expanded in more than 100 cities worldwide since its founding in 2014, people in their 20s and 30s who have lost someone meet regularly to share food. Culinary Grief Therapy is evolving as a mechanism to help those who have experienced the death of a loved one adjust to meal planning, grocery shopping, and cooking for one. Another Chicago-based program partners with a local community college culinary arts program to provide demonstrations and hands-on practices to those who suffer from anxiety during mealtimes due to the loss of a loved one. 

When someone loses a spouse or other close loved ones, people often have trouble getting themselves to eat. What many friends and family may overlook is how isolating preparing meals and eating alone can be for a widow. Thus, spending time together cooking a healthy meal is much more enjoyable when surrounded by a supportive community. Programs such as The Dinner Party aim to address the pain and isolation of cooking and eating alone when plagued with a loss. 

“It’s simple things like, ‘What do you want for dinner?’” says Pat Smith, another widow involved with The Dinner Party. “That’s something that the two of you would have decided together.” 

Graphic by Alyona Baranova