From Denis:
A brief review:
In Part 1 of this series on cooking, I argued that: In preparing and serving breakfast, our Lord forever sanctified the act of cooking for hungry people.
Part 2 followed quite naturally: Cooking is an essential and significant part of Christian faithfulness.
If you aren’t a cook, don’t worry. I am not suggesting we all must become chefs. I am, rather, wanting to help us see cooking for what it truly is—a good gift of God that is to be honored and enjoyed in loving service. Besides, simple meals of soup and bread (perhaps store-bought rather than homemade) can be a nourishing and delightful setting for conversation and deepening friendship. My point is not that we must all cook all the time, but that sharing meals in community—and thus cooking—is an essential part of following Jesus in a broken world.
In this post I want to think with you about presentation, the notion that how the food is presented matters. Matters to those we are feeding, and believe it or not, matters to God.
First, though, I need to start with a confession, something of a guilty secret. Although Margie and I have a reputation for preferring thoughtful, deep, meaningful films, we love watching Gordon Ramsey’s “MasterChef” . This culinary competition gathers good home cooks and challenges them to become master chefs. There’s lots of yelling and cursing, and then a sense of wonder as participants come to see they are capable of doing more than they thought. And there is disappointment as one contestant each week is sent home because the dish they prepared and presented to the judges did not meet their standards.
One aspect of cooking emphasized by the chefs who act as tutors and judges on MasterChef is presentation. The food on the plate must be thoughtful, well cooked, and restaurant quality. And the plating must also be equally creative and appealing, attracting the diner to the appearance of the food being served.
Over the course of the program, we’ve learned a lot about presentation (and cooking). And we remember learning, decades ago from Mrs. Schaeffer how important all this is. A few wildflowers or dried weeds in a quart jar on the table. A candle. Old serving bowls, perhaps found at a thrift store. Of her telling how Francis once visited a training center for young Christians, and at dinner told the leader to get rid of their ugly plastic dinnerware. “Meals matter,” he told them. “It’s a time we can demonstrate something of the glory of God. Your cheap plastic dinnerware speaks poorly of God.” At special times during the year—especially birthdays and high Christian holidays—Margie would bring out the chinaware we’d inherited. She would make the table beautiful, and as we sat down together to eat, we felt different than we usually did at mealtime. Presentation matters.
As daughters of Eve and sons of Adam we remember that God himself provided food for our first parents. “And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east,” Genesis 2:8-9 records, “and there he put the man whom he had formed. Out of the ground the Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.”
Notice it wasn’t just “good for food,” but also “pleasant to the sight.” God could have provided adequate nutrition without making it attractive, pleasant, but that is not the sort of God we believe in as followers of Jesus. The author here is drawing a sharp distinction between the story of the biblical Creator and the myths of the pagan gods. Pagan myths told of cosmic conflict and war, destruction and death giving rise to creation, while here the motivation is imagination, community, and love. In this tiny detail in the Creation narrative, we are given a significant insight into the heart and mind of the Almighty.
The prophet Isaiah could glimpse a future feast when God’s rule is fully realized. “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-matured wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-matured wines strained clear.” [25:6] The fact that God allows us to have such a beautiful image in hope for the coming Kingdom is a grace, especially in a broken world where so many are hungry. This is not just a nutritious feast, but one of beauty, delighting all the senses.
Margie and I have long spoken about being faithful to Christ as Lord in the ordinary and routine of life. Few things are as ordinary and routine as meals—and cooking. Rory Shiner, online for The Gospel Coalition, writes about how Scripture, and Jesus emphasize the importance of meals and feasting.
The Bible begins and ends with meals. The first words of God to humans are an invitation to eat; the first conflict in the Bible is over a forbidden meal; the last act of Jesus before his death is to share a meaning-laden feast with his disciples; and the final vision of the new world is of a massive, joyful banquet.
No figure in the Bible is more associated with food that its central character, Jesus. His first miracle was in response to a catering crisis at a wedding. (The couple had run out of wine. Jesus’ response was to turn four hundred and fifty litres [sic] of water into the best wine the guests had ever tasted.)
Right through his life, Jesus seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time at dinner parties—winning for him a bad reputation as a drunkard, glutton, and friend of the wrong sort of people. The first two charges were false (though Jesus seems not to have lost much sleep trying to, as we say, “take control of the narrative”). On the third accusation (friendship with the wrong sort of people) he was guilty as charged. Gloriously, unapologetically, red-handedly guilty.
Because God is both Creator and the Source of all Beauty, we can and should cook and share meals to his glory. Caring for both nutrition and presentation.
From Margie:
This is a delightful desert, satisfying without being filling, and simple enough that even Denis could make it.
Flan Café
3 eggs, lightly whisked
6 tbsp sugar
¼ tsp salt
¼ cup espresso or very strong coffee (or substitute 2 tbsp instant coffee and an extra 1/4 cup milk)
l tsp vanilla
2 ¾ cups milk (heat in microwave until very warm but not boiling)
6 tbsp Kahlua or other coffee liqueur
Whipped cream.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, sugar, coffee, vanilla, and salt. Gradually add hot milk, whisking as you pour. Pour mixture into 6 custard cups. Place cups in a pan of hot water and bake for 25 minutes until firm. Chill. To serve, top with 1 tbsp Kahlua and a dollop of whipped cream.
Makes 6-8 servings (depending on the size of the custard cups.)
[P.S. For more recipes, look in Margie’s Place Trilogy, which can be ordered from Hearts and Minds Book Store.]
Photo credit: Photo by Evelyn Semenyuk on Unsplash
