At the heart of the table: why food matters for children in care

Published by Alison Morris on

Beyond the desk blog

At the heart of the table:
why food matters for children in care

Reflections from Katie, Emma and The Parent’s Forum. 

We had an amazing conversation at our Parent’s Forum last month. We were talking about what we need to include in our training for foster carers and we ended up having a really important conversation about the meaning of food and mealtimes for our families. Of course we’d considered some of what is included below, some of the time, but what really stood out was just how important this was to all of the parents that were part of our discussion. Here are our thoughts:

Why food matters so much for children in care
(and their parents)

When we think about children coming into care, our minds often go quickly to safety, routines, school, health appointments and permanency planning. All of these matter. But there is something far more ordinary − and far more powerful − that can easily be overlooked.

Food.

Food is never just food. For children − especially children who have been removed from their home − food is wrapped up in identity, comfort, control, memory and love.

Food has a deep connection to attachment and nurture; a physical necessity given by a primary attachment figure to a child. When a child comes into care, we sever that primary attachment bond and this can undoubtedly affect a child’s relationship with food. Our foster carers see behaviours such as over- and under-eating, hoarding food and not knowing when they’re full. Some of these behaviours likely come from trauma experienced at home but this conversation made us think more about the trauma of separation as a factor in food difficulties too.    

Food, choice and a sense of control

Many children who come into care have already experienced a profound loss of control. Adults have made life‑changing decisions about them and for them − often for good reason, but not without deep emotional impact. Where they live, who they see, which school they attend, when they sleep, what they wear.

And often, what they eat.

For some children, the message − even if unintended  becomes: “I can’t even choose what I want for dinner.”

When children are not involved in decisions about food, when they don’t go shopping, don’t help plan meals, don’t get asked what they like or dislike, this adds to a wider sense of powerlessness. Over time, this can shape how they see themselves and their place in the world.

Later, when young people finally experience freedom, the lack of boundaries and choices earlier in life can sometimes swing the other way − with small freedoms going to harmful extremes, whether that’s around food, alcohol, drugs or other risky behaviours. This isn’t about ‘poor choices’, it’s about unmet needs.

Learning life skills happens one meal at a time

Food is also how children learn life skills.

Shopping, budgeting, choosing meals, cooking, eating together, learning what’s appropriate in public spaces − all of these are everyday experiences that quietly prepare children for adulthood. When these opportunities are missing, young people may reach independence without the skills or confidence they need, and then experience frustration, shame or judgement for something they were never taught.

Helping children learn about food is not about removing boundaries. It’s about introducing them together − choice and structure, freedom and guidance.

Food is family, safety and connection

For many children, food holds memories of home — both good and difficult. A particular meal, smell or snack can carry huge emotional meaning.

Food is how many families connect:

  • cooking together;
  • eating together;
  • sitting in the kitchen talking;
  • sharing stories about the day;
  • laughing, arguing, repairing.

In kitchens, relationships are built. Conversations happen more naturally. Children open up − about worries, friendships, school, things they enjoy, things that hurt. Food creates a shared space that feels safer than a formal conversation at a table or in an office.

For children who have lost their home, food can be one of the few remaining threads of familiarity.

Why what children eat matters right from the start

When a child comes into care, the focus can understandably feel overwhelming − assessments, visits, reports, planning, decisions. For social workers, food might feel like a small detail in the middle of enormous responsibility.

But for the child, it can be everything.

Asking “What do you like to eat?” is not trivial. It says:

  • I see you;
  • You matter;
  • Your preferences count;
  • This is your life.

Getting this right early can help build trust, safety and relationship − which in turn makes everything else possible.

This can be vital information to give to foster carers; especially when it can be given before a child is placed. It gives them the ability to prepare, involve the child gradually in food choices, even ensuring they have their favourite sauce, which can help a child feel welcomed and accepted.

Respecting parents, too

For parents, food is often wrapped up in love, care, identity and pride. Judgement about food can sometimes feel like judgement about parenting itself. When children come into care, there can be deep pain in knowing that others are now feeding your child.

Holding this sensitively matters.

Honouring a child’s food preferences can also mean honouring their family, culture and history − even when things haven’t been safe.

A simple but powerful shift

Food offers us a chance to do something quietly radical together:

  • To give children voice where they’ve lost it;
  • To build relationships without forcing conversations;
  • To teach skills through shared experience;
  • To offer safety, connection and dignity through something every day.

Food won’t fix everything − but it can change how it feels to be a child in care.

And that matters more than we sometimes realise.

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