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I learned from my dad that cooking can be a love language. Though he was often busy with work during the week, on Sundays, he would throw together a huge spread of food for my family to enjoy that night and throughout the following days. Though we often teased him about his eclectic food combinations (think coleslaw, pinto beans and pasta), it was clear that those long afternoons in the kitchen were an act of care, a way to provide for us during hectic workweeks.