Infectious Disease,Pediatrics,Physician The Function of Food as a Global Instrument in Healthcare

The Function of Food as a Global Instrument in Healthcare

The Function of Food as a Global Instrument in Healthcare


“What is your preferred homemade dish?” I inquire of each patient. Almost invariably, a smile appears, and the discussion sparks from that point. Mothers beam as they recount their unique recipes. Patients chuckle when I pose the question, “Should we ask your mom to prepare some for us to enjoy together?” Younger children gaze at their mothers with eager eyes, contemplating the possibility. Those instances, those expressions, are invaluable; and they sustain me throughout the remainder of my day.

This is one of my cherished conversation starters. In especially multicultural encounters, food serves as a medium to transcend language obstacles and demonstrate a sincere interest in understanding one another beyond health issues. These openings foster a shared humanity and encourage families to engage in more open conversation. Before long, I am learning about treasured recipes, viewing photographs of meals, and occasionally even sampling the real deal when it unexpectedly shows up at the clinic.

Food embodies a universal language. It surpasses barriers and transports us through space and time. A flavor or aroma can evoke memories of holidays, family customs, and cherished individuals. Sharing these narratives creates a sense of belonging, reminding us that, at our essence, we are humans connecting with fellow humans.

Growing up in Argentina during the 1980s, my mother prioritized practicality above all. Our kitchen housed not one, but two microwaves, while the oven remained largely untouched. Instant mashed potatoes were a frequent side. I still recall visiting friends at the age of 10, tasting homemade mashed potatoes for the first time, and exclaiming, “Ewww, this tastes like potato!” The room burst into laughter upon realizing I had never experienced the genuine article.

Even the most straightforward dish, crafted with love, can evoke the strongest memories. It is not the intricacy but the sentiment behind it that endures. “If you’re skeptical, just ask my daughters about the ‘handcrafted’ crackers and cream cheese towers they still fondly remember.” Now teenagers, they carry those snacks with them, not merely as food, but as part of their upbringing narrative, something they might someday pass down.

That is the allure of food. A modest dish can embody the weight of memory, laughter, and connection. When I sit with patients and hear about the meals that remind them of home, I observe their shoulders ease. I witness tension dissipating, replaced by warmth and a distinct radiance that accompanies the joy of sharing and connecting. Medical dialogues pause, overtaken by pride and happiness as families recount their heritages and customs. In an era when differences can evoke anxiety or defensiveness, there is something singularly empowering about hearing patients express joy regarding their cultural backgrounds. Food evolves into a bridge: from mother to child, from past to present, from kitchen table to hospital room. Over the years, I have listened to stories about Mexican pork, Salvadoran pupusas, plantain chips, Indian namak para, spaghetti with meat sauce, white rice with fish, and, naturally, mac and cheese. I am still waiting, however, for someone to share my love for the creamy, buttery, potato-free essence of instant mashed potatoes.

A meal, a memory, a laugh; these are the components that facilitate our healing together. Each examination room presents a rare opportunity to be entirely present, and opting for a smile and a story consistently prevails. We might not always be capable of curing, but we can always connect, and if we are fortunate, we may even share a meal. Joy, much like a homemade dish, is best when enjoyed together. In sharing it, we extend more than sustenance; we offer a fragment of ourselves. I understood that first at home, from a mother whose practical meals continue to resonate in memory, not for their flawless execution, but for the love they encompassed.

*Diego R. Hijano is a physician-scientist concentrating on pediatric infectious diseases at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital and an assistant professor in the pediatrics department at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center. Born and raised in Argentina, he merges clinical expertise with a profound dedication to human connection, particularly in the bone marrow transplant and oncology units, where he aids patients and families through some of medicine’s most formidable challenges. Dr. Hijano’s work aims to enhance compassionate, equitable, and effective care while advancing institution-wide enhancements in healthcare delivery. His research contributions can be explored via his NCBI bibliography, and more about his career is accessible on his LinkedIn and Bluesky.*