Why We Crave Comfort Food and What It Really Means

Ever find yourself standing in front of the fridge at 11 p.m., staring at last night’s mashed potatoes like they’re the only thing keeping you sane? You didn’t eat dinner. You’re not even hungry. But you still reach for it anyway. That’s comfort food. Not because it’s delicious in the moment, but because it feels like a hug from your past.

It’s Not About Hunger

Comfort food doesn’t satisfy your stomach. It soothes your mind. A 2023 study from the University of Michigan found that people who ate familiar meals during stressful times showed a 22% drop in cortisol levels within 20 minutes-no matter if the meal was mac and cheese, chicken soup, or burnt toast with jam. The brain doesn’t care about nutrition. It cares about memory.

Think about the last time you felt overwhelmed. Maybe it was a bad day at work, a breakup, or just the quiet loneliness of a Monday night. You didn’t search for gourmet. You searched for remembered. The smell of buttery noodles your grandma made. The texture of warm apple pie with ice cream that used to mean Sunday nights. Those flavors aren’t just taste-they’re time machines.

Why Some Foods Stick With Us

Not every meal becomes comfort food. It has to be tied to safety, routine, or love. The foods we cling to are usually simple, carb-heavy, and rich in fat or sugar. Why? Because those ingredients trigger dopamine and serotonin release-the same chemicals activated by cuddling, laughing, or hearing your favorite song.

Take British shepherd’s pie. It’s just minced beef, peas, and mashed potato. No fancy spices. No chef’s touch. But for millions in the UK, it’s the taste of winter evenings, the radio playing, and your mum calling you in from the cold. That’s why it sticks. Not because it’s perfect. Because it’s known.

Same with American mac and cheese. Or Japanese curry rice. Or Polish pierogi. These aren’t restaurant dishes. They’re home dishes. Made with leftovers. Cooked in the same pot for years. The recipe rarely changes. And that’s the point.

What You’re Really Craving

When you reach for comfort food, you’re not craving calories. You’re craving control. When life feels chaotic-when bills pile up, sleep disappears, or relationships crack-you can’t fix it all. But you can boil water. You can stir a pot. You can make something that once made you feel safe.

That’s why people make grilled cheese during breakups. Why someone bakes banana bread after losing a job. Why a teenager fries up frozen nuggets after a bad exam. It’s not about food. It’s about ritual. About saying: I still know how to take care of me.

There’s a reason why comfort food recipes rarely have more than five ingredients. Complexity is the enemy of comfort. You don’t want to think. You want to feel.

How to Make Comfort Food That Actually Helps

Not all comfort food is created equal. A bag of chips eaten alone in the dark won’t heal anything. But a warm bowl of soup made slowly, with someone else in the room-even if you’re both quiet-can change your whole day.

Here’s how to make comfort food work for you, not against you:

1. Choose one dish you genuinely associate with safety. Not what’s trendy. Not what’s on Instagram. What made you feel loved as a kid or during a hard time.
2. Make it yourself. Don’t order it. The act of stirring, chopping, tasting, adjusting-that’s the therapy.
3. Don’t eat it while scrolling. Sit down. Use a real plate. Light a candle if you want. Be present.
4. Invite someone. Even if they don’t eat. Just being near another human while you eat something familiar makes it feel less lonely.
5. Let it be imperfect. Burnt edges? Too salty? Doesn’t matter. It’s still yours.

One woman I know in Manchester makes her mother’s pea and ham soup every Friday. Her mum passed away five years ago. She doesn’t cook it because she’s sad. She cooks it because it’s the one thing that still feels like her mum is there.

It’s Okay to Need This

Society tells us comfort food is lazy. That we should eat kale and meditate instead. But emotions don’t care about diet trends. You can’t talk yourself out of grief. You can’t will away anxiety with a smoothie.

Comfort food isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s your body remembering what worked before. What held you together when nothing else did.

There’s no shame in needing a bowl of creamy tomato soup on a rainy Tuesday. No shame in crying while eating warm chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven. That’s not failure. That’s survival.

What to Try If You’re Starting From Scratch

If you don’t have a go-to comfort dish yet, start simple. Try one of these, made slowly, with intention:

• Scrambled eggs with toast-the kind your mum made when you were sick. Add a pinch of black pepper. No fancy cheese. Just butter and bread.
• Instant oatmeal with a splash of milk and a spoon of honey-warm, quiet, slow. Eat it by a window.
• Grilled cheese with tomato soup-the classic for a reason. Use real bread. Don’t microwave the soup.
• Plain rice with soy sauce and a fried egg-simple, salty, grounding. Used in homes from Tokyo to Toronto.
• Hot cocoa with marshmallows-yes, even as an adult. Make it on the stove. Don’t use powder.

Don’t look for the perfect recipe. Look for the one that makes you pause. The one that makes you say, ‘I remember this.’

Comfort Food Isn’t a Problem. It’s a Lifeline.

There’s no need to ‘get over’ your love for mashed potatoes or chicken pot pie. You don’t have to replace them with quinoa bowls or matcha lattes. Those things have their place. But when the world feels too loud, too heavy, too much-you reach for what’s quiet. What’s known. What’s yours.

That’s not indulgence. That’s self-care. That’s how humans have survived for thousands of years: by holding onto the things that remind us we’re not alone.

So go ahead. Make the dish. Eat it slowly. Let it warm you from the inside out. You deserve that kind of comfort. No explanation needed.