Eat, Sense, Remember, Repeat: What Makes Comfort Food so Comforting?

For as long as I can remember, food has been a quiet constant in my life: not something my life revolves around, but rather a loyal companion to all notable memories and experiences, and the emotions that accompany these. Watching my parents effortlessly dance around the kitchen in a well-choreographed weeknight dinner routine, the thrill of finally being tall enough to help my grandmother stir the Sunday lunch pots, the uncertainty of ordering from a new takeout place while unpacking boxes in my first apartment, and the sadness that comes from ordering from the same place for the last time; the safety of familiar dishes when I visit home for the holidays, and the excitement I felt the first night a girl cooked me a meal from her home country – all important memories and emotional experiences that could not exist without the constant presence of food.

Once I realised what a big part food plays in my most significant moments, I started asking myself whether there is any correlation between specific types of food and the emotions connected to the experience of these foods – especially when we seek them out as a way to find comfort. Are we drawn to certain foods because of how we experience them, or rather, because of the memories and emotions connected to them? More specifically, what is the relationship between food and comfort, and what makes comfort food so comforting?

According to some studies, most adults, when under severe emotional stress, turn to the types of food they associate with safe childhood memories as a way to find comfort (Jones & Long, 2017, 3). The same authors posited that nostalgic comfort food merely takes us to a more ‘digestible’ reality, one softened by memory. This suggests that the comfort we get from food, while seeming physiologically real, may be nothing but an illusion – a placebo effect brought on by the safety of comforting memories (Jones & Long, 2017, 7).

But this raises a deeper question: what does ‘comfort’ mean? While comfort is often seen by philosophers as a ‘trap’, several psychological studies suggest that it is a vital aspect of our lived experience. Psychologists define ‘comfort’ as a sense of ease, often brought on by a lack of negative influences such as hardship or stress.

Despite the romantic notion that finding comfort through food is directly linked to what, or who, it reminds us of, it’s also important to remember that, at its core, eating is a multisensory experience (Karani & Pillay, 2021). It would be foolish to disregard the multitude of elements that make up our experience of food, be it taste, texture, or temperature (Spence, 2015). Studies show that foods traditionally considered ‘comfort food’ are more often than not warm and soft, most likely with subtle flavours. This suggests that we are heavily influenced by our senses when choosing the meals in which we find comfort, whether that choice is conscious or not. Think soup, stews, ice cream, or even chocolate: these foods are easy to consume, offer little stimulation to our senses, and require minor effort from us. When in a state of emotional stress, we often choose this ‘culinary gentleness’ over food that is characterised by loud crunches, heavy chewing, and complex or exotic flavours that we have to decipher unconsciously (Endo, Ino, & Fujisaki, 2016; Spence, 2015).

This brings us back to our understanding of ‘comfort’. If comfort, in the context of food, represents something that is familiar, easy to consume, gentle on our senses, and requires very little effort from us, is it not simply something that brings us closer to temporary relief from the emotionally demanding and sensorially stimulating world we live in? Choosing ‘comfort’ food offers us an escape from the real world: a metaphorical womb – warm, soft, and undemanding of perceptual load – in which we can prepare to re-enter our challenging realities.

I might never draw a final conclusion as to whether the romanticised nostalgia of memory outweighs real-world physical senses when it comes to comfort food, but I nevertheless believe that the comfort I get from food is necessary in the demanding world we live in. Lately, my grandmother doesn’t cook Sunday lunch anymore; my parents’ weeknight routine now consists of a much slower waltz and dinner for two; I’m familiar with all the restaurants near my home; and that girl flew back home years ago. But the memories – and the comfort they bring – will always be there, ready to be resurrected with a single meal. Comfort will come and go, take on various forms over time, and always mean different things to different people. But for many people (myself included), food remains a constant – even if the comfort it offers may be an illusion.

Works Cited:

Jones, M.O. & Long, L.M. 2017. Comfort Food Meanings and Memories. Jackson: University of Mississippi Press.

Karani, T.F. & Pillay, M. 2021. Food Textural Acoustics. South African Journal of Communication Disorders 68(1): 1-7.

Spence, C. 2015. Eating with Our Ears: Assessing the Importance of the Sounds of Consumption on our Perception and Enjoyment of Multisensory Flavour Experiences. Flavour 4(3): 1-15.

Endo, H., Ino, S. & Fujisaki, W. 2016. The Effect of a Crunchy Pseudo-Chewing Sound on Perceived Texture of Food. Physiology & Behavior 167: 324-331.