Summer Memories: BBQs and Comfort Food

There’s something about summer that brings food to the center of my softest memories.  I think it’s the way those long, golden days felt like a little bit of magic growing up.  

I remember the salty ocean breeze brushing against sunburnt skin.  The smell of something sizzling on the grill.  The endless afternoons spent swimming until the sky turned dusty pink.  

To me, summer felt and tasted like freedom.  

Laguna Days: Sandwiches & Smoothies

I spent many summers in Laguna Beach.  Those were the slow, simple days that now feel like a dream.  I’d sit wrapped in a towel with sand stuck to my legs, a little sun-tired and pink in the cheeks, sipping on a Strawberries Wild smoothie from Jamba Juice.

I almost always brought my own sandwich, usually tuna salad.  It’s simple, but when you’re at the beach, sun-kissed and salt-covered, it’s everything you could want.   I’d layer slices of sourdough bread, spread on the tuna, and sometimes add pickles if the mood struck.  

In that moment, it felt like a quiet reward, a bite of comfort, and a little piece of joy wrapped in tinfoil.  A time where I felt in control in my body and everything seemed okay.  

BBQs and That Specific Kind of Tired

I also think of the backyard family BBQs we had when I was a kid.  It wasn’t elaborate or over-planned—just family, food, and that slow-motion feeling only summer can bring.

We’d swim all day and grill at night.  Juicy burgers and hot dogs, potato salad made from scratch, baked beans straight from the can, and big slices of chilled watermelon to finish.

There’s something about that combination of chlorine lingering on your skin, the smoky air from the grill, and the hum of people laughing and swapping stories that still makes me feel safe inside.

When I think of happiness in its most tangible form, I think of those summer nights.  Of being full—not just from the food, but from the moment.

Now I Make It for Myself

These days, I recreate those meals when I need to feel something familiar.  Food is how I care for myself. It brings me back to earth when my thoughts are loud.  It’s grounding. Comforting. A gentle kind of therapy.

I don’t always have the energy to do much, but something about making a burger from scratch—hearing the sizzle, toasting the bun just right, stacking the toppings just how I like them—gives me a little spark.

It’s not just about feeding myself. It’s about reconnecting with the version of me that once felt completely free.

Why It Still Matters

Food has always been more than just nourishment for me.  It’s how I revisit the moments that made me feel alive.  

A bite of tuna sandwich at the beach. A burger shared after a long swim. A slice of watermelon under twinkle lights.

These aren’t just meals—they’re memories.  They remind me of a version of myself that didn’t overthink everything.  The girl who moved slower, laughed easier, and felt joy in the smallest things.

And sometimes, when the world feels heavy, all I need is one of those meals to bring her back.

“Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of food is the only food that can really get you back to earth.”

Marilyn Monroe