How Cooking Pasta Helps Manage Depression

When you’re suffering from depression, even the simplest tasks can feel monumental.  There are days where it gets so bad that I can hardly get out of bed.  I recall times of feeling dark, heavy, and just fully numb.  As though I were a robot, constantly malfunctioning.  

With depression comes overstimulation, emotional instability, and a sense of helplessness. The thing is that it isn’t something that you can easily snap out of.  It takes a lot of resilience and emotional healing.  For me, there is never just one specific thing that I get depressed over—it’s everything.  

I just seem to conjure up negative things about me, my life, and how stuck I am.  It all adds up, and I often feel like I’m tangled in a web of fear and uncertainty. 

 My mind gets foggy, my motivation is lackluster, and my body feels sluggish. It’s difficult to get through the typical day-to-day tasks, but sometimes you have no choice but to pull yourself up. 

Cooking for example, is one thing that needs to be done at some point.  Hunger always kicks I at some point.  So, I gather whatever strength I have, and head to the kitchen. 

Pasta is my go-to, and all-time favorite food to indulge in.  It’s usually instinctive to head to the pantry for pasta when I’m feeling down.  It has a magical ability to comfort me.  It’s warm, familiar, and simple to make—especially when I can barely function.   

Just the other day, I threw together a three-ingredient survival meal, as I like to call it. It was just pasta, garlic, and butter.  I opted to use capellini because it cooks quickly, but any kind of pasta works just as well. 

As the water started to boil, I stood quietly and zoned out for a moment.  I kept back tears because I had a moment of overwhelm.  But even though my mind had wandered away from the task at hand, I quickly got back into it. There is something so soothing, and healing about being in the kitchen.  

Truth is that cooking grounds me.  It engages my senses.  The smell of the garlic gently sizzling, the steam rising from the pot, the sound of water bubbling.  During those moments, I come back to life.

I know firsthand that cooking can improve your mood, reduce anxiety, and offer a better sense of control when things feel too overwhelming.  It’s an activity that encourages me to get out of my head and into the moment.  

The beauty of this dish is its flexibility. It meets you where you are—emotionally, physically, financially. Whether you’re barely getting by or just need a hug in a bowl, pasta shows up. No judgment. Just warmth.

Sometimes we overlook these “sad day” meals, but I believe they deserve more love and appreciation. These aren’t the most photo worthy dishes, but their real and honest.  They remind me that even in the midst of chaos, I can show up for myself.  Even if it’s just buttered noodles with garlic.  

Because sometimes food is more than just fuel for your body.  It’s a quiet way of saying, “I see you.” And in the middle of depression, that can be everything. 

Serve warm, in your coziest bowl. Eat slowly. Breathe. Let the warmth of the food remind you that you’re worthy of care—even in the darkest moments.

“The cure for anything is salt water—sweat, tears, or the sea… and maybe buttered pasta.”

Adapted from Isak Dinesen