I Made You Some Food Means More Than I Love You

In this intrepid yet lyrical new book, Donivan Berube explores the ways in which we give and receive intimacy without even knowing it. Which love languages do our hearts yearn to speak unbeknownst to ourselves? And how can we manifest our communicative literacy through subtle acts and asservations that mean so much more than familiar “I love yous?”

Set against a cascading backdrop of dirt roads and isolated villages across the Peru Great Divide, he reflects on these smaller but no less significant expressions that translate the healing power of togetherness in a quieter voice. Illustrated with impossible mountain passes, Andean hailstorms, and barren landscapes where resources fade toward nonexistence, “I Made You Some Food Means More Than I Love You” is a guiding light for the wayfaring soul. A kaleidoscopic elegy on the spirit of endearment and the heart’s resilience to a world seemingly built to break it.

“There’s this neverending staircase unfurling inside me towards the idea of who I someday hope to be, and while on it I seem perpetually behind schedule. It climbs and climbs and never breaks to soften the crushing weight of its elevation. I lose track of where my mind ends and the sky begins, one a ceiling for the spirit and the other a ceiling for the body. I keep falling forward, always upward, stumbling after some part of myself that may not even exist yet, as if exiled to the periphery of some center I’ll never inhabit.”

Send one to a friend that you'd like to plan your next trip with. Share it with someone who likes bikes, hikes, or getting lost in a good book. Enjoy it at your favorite coffee shop or taproom, with something to be savored.

"I'd felt both entrapped and protected by the wilderness then, as if there was more space for me in my tent than in the world outside of it."

Printed sustainably in California on silk-coated paper.