Interested in experiencing Jesus? The care and feeding of your favorite diabetic? Baking or cooking for others? Crafts? Sewing? Hospitality? Glady going gray?
My lovely and generous neighbor Michele had a LOT of citrus on her trees this season, and she's not the only one. Seems everywhere I went before Christmas, someone was graciously offering or eagerly taking lemons, oranges, tangerines or satsumas. I've been asking everybody who's taking or giving: "What do you do with it?"
I have heard precisely three replies:
| The view out the window from here |
Okay, so it was really chicken, and it was from down the road, but I know Who it is that really sent it.
My sweet friend Stephanie--chief cheerleader and prayer warrior for so many and busy mom of four and ever-willing hands and feet of Jesus--popped in Tuesday with a 9" x 13" casserole of which I got not. one. bite. I never even saw any of it. You can see it here, though this photo is from the repeat, made for the whole family, made on the day I'm taking away from hospital duty to catch up a bit around here. (No surprise, it was deemed not quite as good when I made it. That little "je-ne-sais-quois" is understandably missing!)
| The animation is almost as short as the recipe! |
I'm not in the kitchen lately, despite about 50 pounds of citrus that really, really need my attention.
I'm doing math instead.
| 'Pythagorean Theorum" by Michael Paukner Used by permission |
| July 1993 Jamaica |
| July 2012 Champs Elysees |
A kitchen message is what I call the meals or treats I share with other families. The gift of a dinner in disposable containers is a tangible, edible message from my kitchen and our home, saying "Hang in there," or "We love you," or "Praying for you," or "We're here for you."
Death. Birth. Surgery. Crazy season of life. Heartbreak of any sort. They're all excuses to take food to someone I love to ease their day (and maybe, sometimes, their budget).
I will never forget Mrs. Patty--the mother of a good friend--who showed up the afternoon after my mother-in-law's, death during that "suspended animation" that comes between the death and the funeral. (It was all I could do to deal with the phone, the clothes, and the crazy south-Louisiana snowstorm. Food wasn't even on my radar.)
In her hands was a battered stock pot full of homemade gumbo and a rice cooker full of hot rice. With a hug and a murmured promise to check in on us soon, she was gone in a flash. It was a simple meal, but it was Chet's kind of comfort food growing up, and it was perfect.
Gumbo's not a quick dish to prepare, and so I knew that almost as soon as she heard, Mrs. Patty had started sauteeing the "trinity" (onion, bell pepper, celery) and boiling that chicken, no doubt praying for us all the while. Three years on, my heart still swells with the warmth of the gesture. And my husband, who had previously been rather baffled as to why I went to "so much trouble" to take food to people when they could just grab something from McDonald's, suddenly understood that the food is just the messenger.
The folks I take food to aren't always personal friends I know well. I'm on the meals ministry of our pretty large church (500 people attending two services), so that means sometimes I'm knocking on a strange door, handing food off to someone I may have only seen in passing (if at all). In those cases, I always hope to make a new friend, but even if I never see them again, I pray that they'll feel Jesus' love for them in the meal, that they'll know that His hands reached out to them in a stressful time, through me.
I feel privileged to be His hands, and if I could leave the meals anonymously to emphasize to the recipients just Who it is reaching out to them, I would. (But you know, it isn't wise to eat food left on your doorstep.)
If you're feeling called to send kitchen messages of your own, maybe some of what I've learned will help you on your way.
Meals as Ministry
Six (or seven) questions to ask before taking a meal
Tried and True
Special Needs
Making it special
Lagniappe
Free printables
Usually a slice of fresh bread and a salad (or some simple vegetables) work just fine for us, but sometimes dinner calls for a little something different.
How did your mama share at Christmas?
Mine used to make and deliver fresh bread to our neighbors early on Christmas morning. Back in the days before bread machines and long before dough hooks showed up on home mixers, this required a very early morning and some serious elbow grease, but I can't imagine a better gift, myself. To have a toasty loaf of her pull-apart bread delivered in time to relish with a second cup of coffee while watching the kiddos play with their new toys? Christmas bliss.
Not that she limited herself to bread, of course. Like me, her creativity's playground was the kitchen. Maple, chocolate or peanut butter fudge nestled on wax-paper circles inside huge tins. Alongside there'd be some noodlestacks and stained-glass cookies and whatever new thing she'd found to try. Like me, she was always on the lookout for the next recipe. (These days, at nearly 80, she's baking fruit bread in jars, etching plates for her Sunday school class, and itching to make --and share--vanilla extract.) As always, the best new recipes showed up as gifts at Christmas.
And, I guess it stuck. We saw our moms do it and the compulsion drizzled down over our generation, because food gifts are still pretty normal down here in the South. With an eye to waist-lines and budgets, the honking 12-inch tins have shrunk considerably and the contents have changed from hand-made delicacies to slice-and-bake cookies, but the thought remains the same.
| A terrible late-night picture because that's when we were doing--er--quality control. Oh, yes. |
| This is a double batch and it's the color you're going for. The bowl in the background is caramel syrup mixed with standard sugar syrup. |
...so little liqueur.
Wondering what can you do with those little gift bottles of homemade liqueur? Your bottle will no doubt run dry before you've taste-tested all of these.
| Et voila? |
| A book to read, plus a couple nights out of the kitchen so she'll have time to read it. All that was missing was a way to keep the certificates in plain sight! |
| "The obstacle is your reality; the sand is your peace." Thorny obstacle. Peace surrounding it. Focus on the Peace. Sounds very Christian to me! |
| Courgette with blossoms, Petite strawberries, Ligonberries (I think!), and bread with bacon from our third "favorite" patisserie. |
| Our fresh fish dinner in Nice, panisse bought ready-to-fry, oven-roasted vegetables, and "paupiette de dinde." |
Food gifts for diabetics are tricky business. There are a LOT of bad ideas out there, so if you're in doubt, ask the recipient what would be a good choice.
Dried pineapple chips are a win-win-win. They're pretty, they're unexpected, they're delicious, and they are REALLY diabetic friendly in a reasonable serving size. The directions are here. Attach a tag with all the pertinent information so that your recipient can make a good choice!
This tag is for pineapple chips cut and dehydrated according to the directions on the other page.
It's teacher appreciation time around here! I usually send a variety of tiny treats so there's not too much of any one thing. This year, I decided to include a small jar of my homemade salsa and some tortilla chips in the goodie bag for the high school teachers and support staff this year.
Which, of course, led me on a mental scavenger hunt for something yippy skippy to put on the card. (That's the name of my publisher's writing preferred writing style!)
And here you go. Enlarge the photo to fit an 8.5" x 11" piece of cardstock. (Or go here and print the .pdf file.)
Don't forget to write that nice note inside. Speaking from experience, the BEST gift ever is for a parent or student to name something specific they'll always remember, so do that, ya hear?!
(To see all the printables I've made to share, click here.)
I'm planning to leave a little treat on each teacher's desk on the way out of Monday's Open House.
I'm sharing the word art with you so you can do something with them, too. If you plan to make the same little gift, be sure to measure the bottle of liquid soap or waterless hand sanitizer and re-size the image accordingly. We have 14 15 (!) teachers to buy for, and as the project grew from doing the teachers we already know to include all but the JrROTC leader, I grabbed sanitizer wherever I happened to shop. Though they're all GermX, it seems they are all different sizes. Go figure.