Recently, I met my friend Esther Bernhardt for tea and coffee at Barnes & Noble in Augusta. While I always buy new books from our local bookstore—Apple Valley Books in Winthrop—I must admit that I really like meeting friends at the Barnes & Noble Café. It is inexpensive, the cookies aren’t bad, the tea is very good, the Café is quiet, and they don’t care how long you stay. Additionally, it’s a central location for me and for many of my friends. Nobody has to drive very far to get there.

As it always does when Esther and I get together, two hours just sped right by. We chatted about many things, but, as it so often does, food nudged its way into the conversation. And so did gift giving.

Esther has six children, all of whom are married, and she has many grandchildren, too. (I’m afraid I can’t remember exactly how many. I think there are fifteen or so. ) Yet this generous woman buys Christmas presents for all of them and wishes she had a bigger budget so that she could buy even more. She also buys presents for her daughters-in-law. Heck, Esther even buys presents for me. (Because of her long, close friendship with my mother, who died several years ago, it almost seems as though we are family.)

One year, one of her daughters-in-law decided that what she really wanted for her birthday was a nice, home-cooked meal. I suspect Esther’s daughter-in-law, like most of us, has a house full of knickknacks and thought that a meal would be a perfect gift. She knew just where it would go, and she wouldn’t have to worry about dusting it. And most women—at least the ones I know—are thrilled to have someone cook a meal for them.

“So that’s what I did,” Esther said. “I made the meal special. I printed a fancy menu of what I’d be serving and used that for a birthday card. We had courses, and the soup course was your cheddar cheese soup, which my daughter-in-law loves.”

Another daughter-in-law caught wind of the dinner, and when it was time for her birthday, she also chose to have one of Esther’s home-cooked meals.

“For her, I made my fish dish, a family favorite.”

“Fish dish?” I asked, immediately interested.

“Simple but delicious. I buy thick pieces of fish, usually haddock and coat them with flour. Ahead of time, I have made a simple cheese sauce, like one used for macaroni and cheese. I fry the fish until it’s barely done, and place the fish in a big casserole dish. I pour the cheese sauce over the fish, and then cover the whole thing with croutons. I bake it in a 350° oven for twenty or thirty minutes, until the sauce is bubbling and the croutons are brown. You don’t want to overcook the fish. Then, I serve it with a salad, some bread. Potato or rice.”

“And you have yourself a pretty good meal,” I added, and Esther nodded.

I’ve been thinking of that fish dish, which sounds so good. Clif and I have an anniversary coming up, and Esther’s fish dish is a likely candidate for a special meal. I’ve also been thinking about gifts from the heart and the kitchen, gifts made by hand. About how such gifts don’t have to be expensive to be loved, anticipated, and appreciated.

What these gifts require is the most precious thing anyone can give, and that is time.

Do I really need to add that I hope readers will be cooking and making presents for those they love? No, but I’ll do it anyway. It never hurts to be reminded.