The medication turned down hunger, not my memory of Sunday gravy

I’m 57 and our youngest moved out in August. My new routine is a 30-minute walk after breakfast and cooking for two instead of five. Most days the constant food chatter is quieter. But last Saturday I spent a whole walk mentally assembling a creamy tomato sauce with a splash of vodka — the kind I used to make when everyone was home. I wasn’t physically hungry. It was more like my brain wanted the old kitchen chaos back. I came home, simmered a plain tomato sauce with white beans, and ate it without much drama. Still, those recipe ghosts surprise me. They show up when the house is quiet, not when my stomach is growling. Has anyone else noticed cravings that feel more like nostalgia than hunger?