Living to Eat (with a Little Help from ChatGPT)

They say some people eat to live, while others live to eat. As a second-generation Italian-American girl from Queens, I have always, proudly, lived to eat. Food is how we say "I love you" without actually saying it. It's Sunday sauce simmering for hours, it's too much bread on the table, it's arguing about whose meatballs are better.

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" has, quite frankly, never resonated with me. Carbs are a personality trait where I'm from.

But here's the part that might surprise you: for most of my adult life, I didn't love to cook. I loved eating, I loved restaurants, I loved being cooked for, but the actual act of planning, prepping, and executing dinner on a random Wednesday when you have three kids, a full-time job, and approximately zero mental bandwidth left felt… exhausting.

And then, honestly, ChatGPT changed the game.

Now I type in what's in my fridge ("chicken thighs, San Marzano tomatoes, half an onion, a sad piece of pancetta"), and I get a straightforward, no-frills recipe in seconds. No life story, no ads, just clarity, which removes the friction and means I actually cook.

And here's what I didn't expect: I love what happens while I'm cooking. Not the chaotic, multitasking version, but the steadier one: audiobook in my ears (hi, Wild Reverence), hands moving, knife hitting the cutting board in a rhythm that somehow settles my nervous system. I don't even particularly love chopping, but I love how it quiets my brain while I'm doing something useful — something that ends with everyone gathered around the table.

For me, this isn't about being a trad wife or optimizing protein. It's about reconnecting to something that's always been part of my identity — food as joy, food as love — in a way that finally fits into my actual life. And realizing that maybe in your late 30s, you just become the nonna, whether you planned to or not.