Stuffed Zucchini

My wife made me stuffed zucchini tonight. That might not mean that much to you but it is a food that I remember fondly. I also am fond of cold cucumber soup, but that is another story.

Perhaps this post should be called Mission Food, but I only remember a few things worthy of culinary note while I was on my mission. Let me give you some setup for the food in focus today. As every other missionary, I started my mission attending the MTC. I was there to learn German as I was called to Switzerland, a fact I only recently started to publically acknowledge. The food at the MTC was standard institutional fare and I was quite used to it, having just completed 2 years in Helaman Halls. While it was starchy and filled with enough carbs to practically kill me now, I actually lost weight. I was so stressed, so depressed that I lost around 20 to 30 pounds, even though I ate well. I also had serious reservations about actually being a missionary. I loved some aspects of the LDS Church and culture and I wanted to go mostly because, 1) it was expected and I wanted to please my family and friends, 2) I wanted to be a good person and I was told this was part of being a good person, 3) I wanted to show gratitude to my Savior for helping me straighten out my life and giving me such wonderful friends and a beautiful girlfriend and for being able to attend a school that I loved. I loved learning so much. My reservations were that I didn't necessarily feel qualified to preach the Book of Mormon. While I felt it was a strong testimony of the Savior, I also didn't know if it actually happened. I mean, the characters were almost unbelievable and there wasn't any real evidence that the civilization described therein existed. That isn't to say I didn't believe in it. I also was extremely introverted. I was going to preach religion, some of my most personal beliefs, and I really didn't want to open myself to that kind of rejection and criticism. I just wanted to be a good man, a good husband and a good engineer.

Where was I? Oh yes. After two months of feeling guilty of past sins, stressed over missing my friends and girlfriend, all of whom I loved more than I admitted to anyone, I went to Switzerland. I went but none of the money that my parents sent me went. Here I was, halfway around the globe, holding my pants up with one hand, in the most beautiful part of the Earth I'd ever seen. Who in the world would want to talk to me about Jesus when they have all of THIS around them? I didn't even want to talk about Jesus when all I wanted to do was see things, and eat. That's right, eat. You see, no money means no food. Even after losing so much weight, I was destined to lose more because I had nothing. What little I had with me, borrowed off my companion, or the mission, I still wasn't eating. I wrote a few letters home telling them that I wasn't receiving anything and that they had to get to Zion's Bank and do something. I sent a few other letters out but that was expensive, and each letter cost about what a cup of macaroni cost so many letters were sent out at the expense of my eating. Macaroni was cheap (and food there was expensive) and it fooled my stomach into thinking there was something in it. I still get teary eyed when I think of one family there. I'll call them Family S. They looked at what a bag of bones I had become and let me have the run of their fridge. My pride kept me from eating everything, but I do remember a wonderful soft cheese that I could put on bread. Without them, that first month would have been much, much harder. I was in the land of bread, cheese, yogurt and chocolate, and I had none of it. I still was losing what little weight I had left and Family S had my suits redone so at least I could walk around clothed. I remember while the woman of the home measured me, she wondered if I had ever fit into those clothes.

My second month was much like the first. No money. No food. The branch held some get togethers and I had the chance to eat. While I didn't like my companion there, he did talk to the branch president and soon some Francs were pressed into my hand from members and we started having dinner, or rather, lunch appointments. This is where the stuffed zucchini came in. It was the first recognizable meat I had there, that wasn't in sausage form. We were at a young couple's appartment and the woman of the home brought out the zucchini fresh from the oven, cut crosswise with the middle hollowed out, filled with hamburger, potatoes and cheese. I don't think I ever had such a meal, one that was so appreciated. I think I hadn't eaten for a few days previous so I was so hungry and this meal was a work of art.

That is why I am fond of Stuffed Zucchini.

I later reconnected with a friend and asked if she knew why I had lost weight. "I think you said you didn't like the food." Really, is that what I said? Did I lie about everything to make things seem that they were going ok? "No. I was depressed, and I was starving. What little food I had was incredible."

Why did I lie about that with my friends? I know I didn't want to let anyone know how bad off I was, but these were the people I trusted and loved. Have I changed so much now?

I was sent stateside after my two months in Switzerland. I figured I was 40 or so pounds lighter than when I started at the MTC but I was gaining again because I received some money a few days before I left and I was working in the mission office for a week and the mission president had fed me. I got off the plane, met my new mission president and was promptly told that I was a "problem missionary" and he didn't want me in his mission. When I did meet my new companion, I just told him to take me to McDonalds because at the moment, all I wanted to do was eat Big Macs and sleep. And I slept for a full day.