In The Kitchen

23 posts
Rest and Ratatouille

In summer, metaphors are as plentiful as buzzing bees. Here is one with its nose buried in a hollyhock. Here are half a dozen more darting among the clover. Summer is a gradual unspooling, and I see the picture of it everywhere: rosebuds unfurling, pea vines and morning glories curling and uncurling. Summer is for slowly, but surely, unclenching our fists, letting our hurried shoulders drop, and leaning in toward...

8 3
Storied Dishes

After we got engaged I couldn't wait to finally get to choose an everyday china pattern and register for gifts. (How in the world was that almost 30 years ago?) I didn't need to choose fine china; I had inherited my mother's Malden by Oxford, simple, rimmed in gold, and stunning. I'm one of those who believes kitchen art begins with pretty dishes. A spectacularly set table doesn't necessarily have to...

13 0
The Bountiful Feast

“Is anyone joining us tonight?” she asks as she counts the plates for dinner. The fact that she doesn’t know this answer points to the varying numbers that gather around our little faux wood dining set. “Just us tonight,” I say, and flip another tortilla in the cast iron pan. There’s a stack of 15 tortillas on the plate and I’ve rolled out the last one. We won’t eat 16...

1 0
In Which A Meal Is My Only Goal

Life has been a little weird for me. Maybe weird is a bad description? Maybe unstable is better. Maybe for the first time in my life I am truly grappling with those old words from Paul, “For I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not practice what I want to do, but I do what I hate.” Romans 7:15 (HCSB). Is the visceral understanding of these...

4 1
Fighting Boredom with Loveliness

Every year this time of year, I find myself in a rut. The days are gray and I’m weary of cold weather. The buzz of the holidays has quieted and the change of routine that comes with summer seems far off. It’s a season filled with writing and work, causing the days to blur. My table becomes a metaphor for my life. In the past few months, my crockpot has...

4 3
In the Habit of Hospitality

I am allergic to goals and averse to resolutions. I love to dream, but I prefer my dreams in rosy shades of vague. Details and action plans make me tired. Oh, January. Oh, month of optimism and ambition. I love you. But I do not trust you. * Or, perhaps, I do not trust myself. For though I am no setter of goals, I, too, long to turn over that...

8 2
On Apples, Trees and the Light of the World

Tonight I’m turning off the lights and letting the low light of the candle flicker over Bing Crosby’s voice. For hundreds of years, people have been lighting candles for one reason or another. For comfort. For light. For hope. For prayer. To show someone which way to go. To find the way themselves. Tonight I’m keeping them lit because they remind me that darkness cannot extinguish light. No matter how...

6 1
Friday Feast: Cauliflower Soup

 Among the many gifts of the Autumn season, hot soup in warm mugs on cold afternoons and evenings sits at the top of my list. I wait for this all year. In my house, (as is probably true for many of you too), we have a variety of dietary constraints. I've got nut-free, people, dairy-free people, people who only like chicken nuggets or pizza, my husband eats a Keto diet, while I am...

7 0
Love at the Table

I still remember the first time I met her, emerging from the shadow of her garage to meet us at the car. Her eyes were the same piercing blue as his; or rather, I suppose, his, hers. I think I told her so right then. I don't know if he and I were in love yet but we were headed in that direction; he brought me home to meet his parents, after all. Obviously, something was...

16 3
Become a Relational, Confident Cook

 When I listen to women lament of their kitchen struggles; I want to empower them to become a confident cook who attends to the importance of relational connectedness at the table.   If eating is the sixth love language, then mine is cooking for that person.  I understand what Eric Liddell meant when he said, “God made me fast.  And when I run, I feel his pleasure,” because when I get...

9 1
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