One reason why I love to go back home is to eat. Yes, my parents are another one, but they're the ones who do the cooking, hence I go home for food.
There are only so many things I can make at my home that I'm not able to enjoy at theirs. I make meals that don't entail combining more than 4 ingredients and take no more than 20 minutes to complete from start to finish. My parents will be slaving over a hot stove for hours (ususally because they can), throwing in everything but the kitchen sink in order to complete a meal.
This is never more obvious than on holidays.
Since it's Thanksgiving weekend, I'll be enjoying their cooking (as well as the cooking of my sister's family) for several days. I'd gladly have them all at my place, but it's not hospitable for that many people (the joys of living downtown). That, and I wouldn't know how to cook for about 10 people; barely know how to cook for two.
There will be lots of F's being flung around (in no particular order): family, fighting, food, and farts. And by the end of it, we'll all be much fuller. This will be the start of my weight gain. Non-stop - almost monthly - holidays until the spring will guarentee a minimum of 10 pounds of weight gain.
By the way, are you going to eat that...?