Meals, Memories, and Meaning: How One Woman Turned Grief Into a Lifeline for Cancer Patients
- Ron Krit
- Apr 9
- 3 min read

It had been years since I last caught up with Courtney Johnson, but the moment we reconnected, it felt like no time had passed—except a whole lot had. She had moved to Dallas, launched the nonprofit in a new city, and become a mom to a 14-month-old boy (who, by the sound of it, already eats more than most grown men). Life is moving fast, and so is Culinary Care, the nonprofit she founded that brings restaurant-prepared meals to cancer patients in treatment.
But let’s rewind.
Courtney started Culinary Care not because she wanted to be a nonprofit founder, but because she wanted to honor her dad. When she was a junior in high school, her dad was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. He lived for just seven months after diagnosis. Those days were filled with hospital visits, treatment appointments, and moments no family ever wants to face. But in the midst of it all, food brought them comfort. It was the meals brought by friends and family—meals that felt normal, that tasted like love—that gave them moments of peace. As Courtney shared, “Every single memory I have with my dad is tied to food. That’s what we held on to.”
And that’s what inspired her to give that same sense of comfort and dignity to others.
Over the past 12 years, Culinary Care has delivered more than $1,000,000 in free restaurant-prepared meals to cancer patients and their caregivers. But it’s more than just food—it’s about care, community, and connection. When I asked Courtney what’s surprised her most, she shared that despite how common cancer is, people still underestimate how isolating it can be. “Cancer ghosting” is real. People don’t know what to say, so they don’t say anything. Combine that with loss of appetite, treatment side effects, and limited support systems, and even cooking a basic meal becomes overwhelming. As she put it, “Cooking for one can make people feel even more alone.”
That’s why Culinary Care partners with local restaurants to deliver delicious, thoughtfully prepared meals. And yes, she’s tasted a lot of them—though she wouldn’t name a favorite out of loyalty to the chefs. Fair. What stuck with me is how much detail goes into each partnership. These aren’t random takeout meals. They’re curated, high-quality dishes that patients look forward to, that caregivers get excited about, that sometimes even change taste buds for the better.
She told me about a woman named Leigh, Culinary Care’s very first meal recipient. Leigh had just moved to Chicago and was going through treatment alone. After receiving a single meal, she wrote a four-page letter describing how much it meant to feel seen, nourished, and supported. She ended that letter by saying Culinary Care had restored her faith in humanity.
All from one meal.
That’s the power of food. And that’s the power of Courtney’s vision.
Now in Dallas, the nonprofit is looking to grow into three more cities by 2028. But expansion isn’t just about geography—it’s about deepening impact. They’ve created a monthly giving community, “a subscription to good” as Courtney likes to think of it, where everyone can become a philanthropist. The Culinary Care monthly giving community has over 250 philanthropists each giving what they can. For some that’s $10 for others its over $200 a month. As a thank you for their commitment, they can access opportunities to connect more deeply with the mission -- like writing birthday cards or delivering meals. They’ve also built long-term partnerships with corporations through their signature fundraiser, The Corporate Cook-Off — a fun competition that includes volunteering, a chef showdown, and a gala. True to form, Courtney puts the “fun” in fundraising.
Behind the scenes, she’s also navigating mom life, team leadership, and building a sustainable organization. When I asked how she unwinds, she laughed and said, “Honestly, just having a moment to sit.” Whether it’s cooking, working out, or simply being with her son, she finds balance by being present—and by remembering what really matters.
When you’ve lived through what she has, you don’t take a quiet moment for granted. You know that love can look like salmon and spaghetti. That healing can come from popovers and potatoes. That connection doesn’t always require words—sometimes, it’s just a hot meal, delivered with heart.
And that, in a nutshell, is Culinary Care. To learn more or donate: https://culinarycare.org/
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