Food, like a loving touch or a glimpse of divine power, has that ability to comfort. —Norman Kolpas
She stood at my front door. Holding a buffet.
Marinated tri-tip steak. Creamy mashed potatoes. Baked cinnamon squash. Rolls, still warm. And—thank you dear God in heaven—blueberry cobbler. Blueberry, gorgeous cobbler.
Give me thirty. Then take me home, Jesus.
It’d been two weeks since I’d eaten a real meal, the unfortunate fallout after a major mouth surgery. Breakfast was popsicles or applesauce. Lunch and dinner, Ensure and more Ensure. By the end, I’d lost nearly 25 pounds and looked ill. Physically and emotionally, I was.
And then Becky & Greg Johnson showed up. In the middle of my famine, they brought a miracle of manna. And that night, the first night I could eat solid food, I ate a feast that filled my emptiness.
It’s been almost three years since that offering of food, and I’ve yet to find it’s equal. Yes, Becky is an amazing cook. That’s true. But the warmth that fills me even now as I write has little to do with a display of cooking expertise.
It’s because of the nourishment of a friend during a long and lonely drought.
Becky used food to show love, plain and simple. Pulling together a few ordinary ingredients, she ended my hunger—stomach and soul—with her offering. And I won’t soon forget it.
I’ve long been a foodie. For me, cooking is art, and I enjoy creating something and serving it up my for my family. My speciality? Made-from-scratch chocolate chip cookies. But for years I discounted my edible offerings, thinking it to be a mundane task more than a rare gift. Becky and her daughter, Rachel Randolph, remind me otherwise:
Like tears—cooking, serving and eating together is a language without words that hearts understand. (We Laugh, We Cry, We Cook, pg. 203)
A way to connect, to empathize, to be with. Beyond the relational, food can also be a means to the spiritual:
Food is perhaps the most commonly used metaphor when God wants to tell us something meaningful and eternal. From forbidden fruit, to manna, to loaves and fishes, to bread and wine . . . we could follow the thread of God’s Unfolding Story by going from food to food, drink to drink, meal to meal in passage after passage.
The food we make and the people we share it with are far more than tri-tip, mashed potatoes and blueberry cobbler. It’s not about complicated recipes and obscure ingredients. It’s understanding that our need for physical nourishment is a means to relational and spiritual nourishment, as well.
I believe this, heart and soul. Because I’ve seen it happen too many times to ignore.
In fact, I believe it enough to do something I’ve never done before. EVER.
Today I’m giving away a copy of Becky and Rachel’s new book, We Laugh, We Cry, We Cook. Filled with both vegan and meat-lovin’ recipes, the book will warm your heart with stories and your family with easy-to-prepare food.
But I’ve given books away before. That’s not the surprise.
This time the book comes with a batch of my famous chocolate-chip-cookie deliciousness.
(you might want to read that again)
Cookies. A whole box of ’em. AND a book. Shipped right to your front door. That’s even better than blueberry gorgeous cobbler.
Why am I doing this?
Because food tastes best when it’s shared. I make the cookies. Becky and Rachel whip up a book. You savor every bite of both.
And we all end up full.
To be entered to win a copy of We Laugh, We Cry, We Cook as well as the cookie BONUS, make sure you do both of the following:
- Leave your favorite “fast and easy” recipe in the comments below. Five ingredients or less. And tell us why you love it. (Don’t forget to come back later to collect new recipe ideas!)
- Share a link to this post on FB or twitter. If you need help, you can tweet something like this => “Food tastes best when it’s shared.” Get a FREE book AND cookies on @MicheleCushatt’s blog!
NOTE: For tasty (and FREE) online recipes, be sure to check out the We Laugh, We Cry, We Cook blog. Delish!