I packed a lunch for my T once. I'm a good cook, and everything was homemade--even the sandwich bread. It was sort of a celebration of my depression lifting so that I felt like cooking again. He was pretty pleased, even though he tried to hide it. He told me the next week that he'd shared it with his wife for dinner and they'd really enjoyed it (I'd included enough for two because I thought he might want to share with someone.) I was glad he accepted it without a lot of obvious questioning.