Nourishing the Soul by Feeding the Body
When I was first interested in missions, I devoured books about how to prepare and what I needed to learn. One of the things that still sticks out in my mind was the assertion that a good preparation was learning how to make meals for large quantities of people. It doesn't seem like the most glamorous thing to learn about missions especially when language learning and cultural norms and evangelism tactics would seem more relevant to a newbie. But, the reality is that food plays a huge role in ministry. I just finished Shauna Niequist's book, Bread and Wine, where she pleads with her readers to open their homes and build community via sharing food at a common table. And, I echo her belief that food is part of developing relationships and sharing who Jesus is to us in our lives. It's not about agendas. It's just about being who we are and nourishing the body as we also encourage the soul.
When I first moved here, I definitely had a learning curve in terms of what food preparation means in Honduras. I grew up in a home where both parents were working full time, and my mom was an expert at making meals in the crockpot or whipping up something quick, grabbing for canned or frozen foods in the process. That is initially how I learned to cook though I've always had a flare for adding a little something, eyeballing instead of measuring, and seeing how to make something good from what is available. Here in Honduras, food preparation for the average Honduran we know and visit with doesn't really involve too many canned or frozen foods. Shopping can look less like going to a supermarket once a week and look more like taking a bus to the open-air market to lug home sacks of dirty vegetables and portions of rice and beans. Or, it may look like sending a child to the nearby pulpería (little shops with almost everything run out of neighboring homes) to bring home a few eggs, an avocado, some cheese, and some plantains to make for dinner. Living here, I can't responsibly cook exactly like my Mom because while there are frozen and canned foods, they aren't cheap. But, I also am a North American who comes from a country where there is every kind of food available somewhere or another. So, when I can avoid food monotony both for health and just personal tastes, I do. Thus, in the time that I've been here, I've joyfully developed my own style of cooking drawing from both worlds and making good use of what is available to me. In the process, I have found that I prefer to make things from scratch, and while it is a lot of work, the taste of fresh ingredients is infinitely better than the taste of processed ingredients. They're also healthier. Lucky for me, fruits and vegetables are very cheap in comparison to what they cost in the US.
Over the years, I've cooked for a lot of different people. The first were the girls at the Manos Extendidas transition home. Their go-to meal was tortillas con quesillo, or two corn tortillas filled with gooey Honduran cheese and fried. They often slathered theirs in ketchup; I prefer hot sauce. Not the healthiest thing, but a good example of Honduran comfort food. I had a small group in my little apartment, and in addition to preparing lessons, I also prepared muffin tin mini-frittatas, smooth cake batter fudge with colorful sprinkles, and lime meringue pie. There were almost never any leftovers. During the time I was going to Teen Challenge every Sunday, I was making food for 10 people and always a little extra to leave some leftovers with the boys. My efforts to expand their palates weren't always well-accepted, but because they were hungry, they were good sports about it. I think their most loved foods were lasagna, Mexican lasagna, huevos rancheros, and when I'd bring all the fixings to make baleadas--scrambled eggs with bologna, shredded chicken, avocados, plantains, refried beans, Honduran cheese, and Honduran cream. (Baleadas are a true Honduran food. They're basically a flour tortilla filled with refried beans, scrambled eggs, Honduran cheese, Honduran cream, and anything else you want to add.) They also loved my desserts--fruit pizza, peanut butter banana tacos, and brownies. You should have seen how many trips I had to make carrying all of these pans to my little Tercel.
After the Teen Challenge years, I had two kids living at home, and that meant lots of cooking. I felt like all I did was cook. The easiest thing for me to whip up were pasta salads with hard boiled eggs and avocado or Marvin's favorite, spaghetti. We also always had rice and beans on hand. With that said, I was always trying to make new things. I love to cook, but I hate making the same things over and over. It's all about new challenges for me. As a result, the boys were often put in a position to eat things that they had never really tried or liked before--usually vegetables. You'd be surprised how picky someone who has eaten from the garbage before can be. Finally, after weeks of their non-stop whining and of their trying to eat Ramen noodles when I had spent time cooking, I got fed up. I packed up all the food we had in the house, and I stored it at Raúl's room. The only things I left were rice and beans--the two staples that some of the most impoverished people in Honduras live off of. I put a note on our empty pantry cabinet stating that I was tired of their attitude of ungratefulness (something we had talked about previously), and I told them that I had donated our month's grocery funds (apart from what was needed for rice and beans) to a ministry in Africa that provides meals for thousands of needy children, which is exactly what I had done. For one whole month, the only guaranteed food they had at their disposal was rice and beans. As their attitudes changed, I began adding food back to our pantry. I will never forget the day that Josuan convinced Raúl buy him an egg for his dinner. He was going on almost two weeks of just rice and beans, and he was desperate for anything else. We were in the parking lot after church getting ready to go home, and Josuan was tossing his beloved egg in the air and catching it. He was smug about finding a way around my rules, and he couldn't wait to get home to fry his egg. Someone warned him that he was going to drop it, but of course, he didn't pay attention. Within seconds, his egg was broken in pieces in the parking lot with the yolk oozing all over the pavement. I will never forget the look on his face. My actions could be taken as cruel, but I'll tell you, after that month, I have never had a single problem of complaints about food from either of my kids ever again. And, it's a memory and a lesson we can all laugh at together now.
When I didn't have kids at home anymore and had no one to cook for but myself, my cooking habits went downhill except for when I was cooking for Raúl. I hate cooking for myself. It just seems like so much effort for just one person. But, before too long, I had a reason to cook again. Raúl and I went to see a friend in prison on a pretty regular basis. He was a North American, and the only thing he was eating in prison was mostly junk food. It finally dawned on me that one of the best ways I could provide him comfort was making some familiar food for him. So, I made macaroni and cheese from scratch with buttery breadcrumbs and rich, chocolaty brownies. I made steak smothered in butter, mashed potatoes laced with cream cheese, and green beans with bacon. Some of the things I made were odd for the Hondurans in our company, but the look on our friend's face and how he treasured any leftovers were so worth it.
Since we started our small group in our home, I'm back to cooking for fifteen people every Saturday. Sometimes, it's a challenge to get my checkbook and that number to play nice with my culinary ambitions. But, I've learned a lot over the years. Here are a couple of those lessons:
1) When I was in college studying education, we learned about Dr. Ruby K. Payne's Framework for Understanding Poverty. Basically, part of what that framework teaches is that each person's approach to food and what they want to get out of a dining experience will vary based on their mentality (be it a poverty mentality, middle class mentality, or a wealthy mentality). Some of my biggest failures as a missionary cook has related to this concept. A lot of times, when finances permit, my goal as a cook has been to provide a new taste or culinary experience to someone who has never had the opportunity to try something before. But, most of the time, the goal of my guests is to fill their tummies to the brim. It's the quality versus quantity argument. I've learned to meet in the middle. In general, it is always better to have too much than too little. So, I never make a meal without at least trying to have leftovers. You never know who is going to stop by and what you need on hand to heat up at the last minute. Also, Hondurans are typically not shy about asking to take some leftovers home, which I receive as a glowing review.
2) Trying to make a food that is close but not exactly like a food they already love can seriously backfire on you sometimes. It's kind of like when you're expecting to take a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie, but it turns out to be oatmeal raisin. I'm not knocking oatmeal raisin cookies. I'm just saying that the expectation is what throws you off. For example, soup in Honduras is well-loved. Sundays are usually days to eat soup, and people get excited about soup here. With that said, "soup" to the Honduran population I'm most around typically means a mostly clear broth, huge chunks of vegetables that won't fit in one bite and sometimes requires the use of your hands, and large chunks of meat. That's not true in every case, but you don't see a lot of mainstream side-of-the-road places serving pureed soups or soups that don't feature chunks of substantial ingredients. This probably goes back to the mentality of what you want to get out of your food. Given this information, when I make soup for Honduran guests, I try to keep some standard Honduran conventions. I may be going for a chicken soup, but I'm going to add more vegetables than the North American standard of carrots, celery, and onions. I will probably include more vegetables that Hondurans associate with soup that will also make it more substantial--things like pataste, potatoes, yuca, and sweet potatoes. I don't usually make the chunks so huge they won't fit in one bite, but I make sure that the soup is chunky enough to feel filling. And, I usually try to find some kind of meat to include even if I can't do huge chunks.
3) Know your audience. There are definitely Hondurans who are up for trying things drastically different than what they're used to. Raúl will pretty much eat anything I put in front of him without a single complaint, and a lot of times, he really likes what I make even though it's new. But, when we go out to eat, and he has his choice, it is guaranteed he will almost always order something familiar. Case in point, we can go to absolutely any restaurant, and no matter how sophisticated it is, if there are French fries on the menu, he will order them. The best luck I've had with the Hondurans we are around is to use ingredients they are familiar with. I almost never make a whole meal of unfamiliar ingredients. If I introduce a new ingredient, I make sure that it's included with familiar ones. That is why lasagna, chili, Mexican tacos, and sloppy joes are some of the biggest hits. Usually the only exposure to Asian food that a Honduran who has low-resources will have is from the Honduran version of Chinese fried rice or chop suey. It's definitely Honduras' own interpretation, and it's different from the US version. (Just as the US version isn't authentically Chinese at all.) Thus, foods with differing Asian flavors don't always go over well. With that said, Thai flavors of lemongrass, coconut, garlic, cilantro, limes, and tamarind can actually go over quite well because those flavors are similar to coastal Honduran and Nicaraguan flavors. Overall, if you want to make your guests feel comfortable and welcome, it's worth it to have a general knowledge of their existing palate.
4) With all of the previous advice mentioned, also, I'd say don't be afraid to make some things you know your guests haven't had before. I have found that being able to try something new can make my Honduran guests feel special even if they seem initially timid. If there is a food that your guests won't intuitively know how to eat, make sure you give a little explanation. And, don't feel insulted if they want to smother whatever you make with ketchup, hot sauce, salt, or some other condiment. (My husband does this on a regular basis with every food!)
5) Be culturally sensitive. This isn't a lesson I have had to learn to the hard way. This is just kind of common sense observation. Food and drink is a big part of culture. Every culture has its own belief systems. For example, within the Christian community in Honduras, generally speaking, it is frowned upon to drink alcohol. That is not the case for every Christian individual, but because of the culture that surrounds drinking here, it's an action that can easily be associated with sin and excess. It's something that we're mindful of in order to maintain clean testimonies to those watching us. On a lighter note, Hondurans find some food and beverage combinations very weird. I will never forget the time I took Raúl to a 50's diner-themed burger joint. He didn't know what to order, so I got us burgers, fries, and milkshakes. He was astounded that mixing a milkshake and a burger in his stomach didn't result in violent illness. It has something to do with the idea of combining milk with eating food (even though they have no problems with cheese or sour cream). So, I never even offer milk as a beverage with dinner. Just another cultural tidbit, a lot of Hondurans think that it is harmful to eat hot soup and drink a cold beverage at the same time. A lot of them will refuse a beverage when soup is being served for that reason.
6) There is a difference between guests and people you allow to be family. The mentality shifts from let me entertain and provide for you to let us share and make something together. A lot of the kids who have known us for years can come into our home and ask if we have anything to heat up. If we don't, I'll often pull out the frying pan and let them make themselves some eggs. These are also the kids we put to work dishing the food out and pouring beverages when we have small group. Or the kids we'll ask to pick up some tortillas on the way up our hill. It is great to start community and be the person serving, but it's also great to let discipleship get messy and to start teaching the ones you've developed relationship with to come alongside you in serving others. Both are equally important, and both aspects can demonstrate love to those around you.
7) Plan ahead to minimize stress but also keep some food staples on hand for those last minute emergencies. Living in Honduras, last-minute guests can be easily accommodated with the help of the pulpería. Within minutes you can have cooked beans, dairy products like Honduran cheese and sour cream, and eggs at your disposal. What can be more challenging to find depending on the hour are fruits and vegetables. So, I try to keep everything on hand that I need to make a quick salad--plenty of greens, tomatoes, hardboiled eggs, and the ingredients needed to whip up some homemade salad dressing in the blender. I also typically have a starch like rice made in bulk to be able to eat off of all week. And I almost always have the ingredients to make spaghetti ready when needed. When you know you're going to be cooking for a crowd, try to do as much prep beforehand as you can. On Saturdays, I generally clean house, get ready, teach an English class, and by four, I have to get started on the food. The more prep I've done earlier, even if it's just chopping up the vegetables, is less stress for me and last minute prep before people arrive. I've been off of my meal prep game since I got back from the States because of not having a set grocery buying day or a vehicle to make that kind of planning predictable. So, this past Saturday, I found myself sweaty and in need of a shower, assembling 30 Chipotle-style burritos, about 20 minutes before people were set to arrive. I've determined I'm not doing that this week.
8) Give yourself a break every once in a while. If you are cooking for a crowd on a regular basis, every once in a while, give yourself the night off. For me, that means once a month or every two months buying the aforementioned Chinese fried rice because it's the most economic option for a crowd or buying some pizza. No one in our little circle ever minds, and ministering through providing meals isn't a performance anyway.
9) Accept help. This is a point Shauna Niequist makes that I whole-heartedly agree with. Developing real community means providing for others' needs, but it also means having needs yourself and allowing others to contribute to your needs. If someone offers to bring something or help clean up, take them up on it even if you initially feel shy. It's important to learn to receive just as it's important to learn to give.
10) Release your expectations (of perfection). Entertaining or cooking for others almost never goes as planned. People are messy, and they bring their own expectations and needs to the table. Part of facilitating real community is not being so rigid that you can't recognize when a moment is calling for you to put your plans on the back burner.
11) Seek to learn! One of the first ways I ever bonded with my mother-in-law (before she was my mother-in-law) was by seeking her out to teach me how to make nacatamales. Being teachable and valuing what other cultures can teach us through food are great evangelistic assets because they build relationships.
I'm sure that there is more wisdom on this topic, but I'm still learning. When we first started the small group, we fielded some comments about why we eat dinner before sharing prayer and a lesson, and the reason is that dinner is when real relationships are actually formed. We're running out of space in my little house for the number of people coming, but that just means that people take their plate of food to sit on the cozy couch. As they munch on green salad and spoon out steaming soup, lick their chicken bones clean and squirt hot sauce on their taco, they also talk and listen, joke and play. This is real life, and to help someone feel comfortable enough to talk about the difficult topics, you need to facilitate some lighthearted play and nourishing enjoyment. They need to feel safe and part of a familial table. One of the things that has been difficult for me in living away from my family is that I can't just plop down at my Grandmom's table for some gazpacho soup or my Nannie's table for a Reuben sandwich or open my mom's crockpot to some comforting beef stroganoff. If there is a food I'm craving, I'm the one who has to make it. There is something so soul-soothing to me about someone else purposefully cooking for me, and it's one of my most heart-warming joys when I return to the States. There is love communicated through food, and that's something I keep in mind when one of our guests asks for their fourth helping of dinner. When was the last time someone cooked for that person?
There is a reason that there are stories in the Bible about Jesus sharing a lakeside meal of freshly caught fish with the disciples and about his feeding the 5,000. There is a reason that the Israelites kept the sanctity of the Passover meal and God commanded them to celebrate specific things by feasting. There is a reason God provided manna, and Jesus turned water into wine. They are the same reasons that celebratory or comforting food is present in times of weddings and funerals. Food--what we share of our own time, finances, energy, and culinary creativity--is a representation of how Jesus gives us Himself. Our human need to eat in order to live and have energy reminds us of our dependency on the God of our Provision. And, that common need unites us regardless of culture, finances, location, or language. Food within ministry can play an almost forgotten role, or it can be a distraction to pat ourselves on the back without offering eternal life. Sometimes, it is about satiating hunger pangs. My husband, every time he prays, especially for a meal, always remembers to ask God to provide food for those who have nothing to fill their stomachs because he knows what that feels like. And, while he's praying for physical needs, I pray that God would also ease loneliness, invite others to His table to be a part of His family, and lead others into trustworthy, compassionate community because I know what it's like to hunger for that. To me, the best ministry seeks to nourish the whole person--body, soul, and spirit.
In the spirit of community--and helping a girl out--what is your go-to meal whenever you're feeding a crowd? Feel free to leave your suggestions in the comments!
When I first moved here, I definitely had a learning curve in terms of what food preparation means in Honduras. I grew up in a home where both parents were working full time, and my mom was an expert at making meals in the crockpot or whipping up something quick, grabbing for canned or frozen foods in the process. That is initially how I learned to cook though I've always had a flare for adding a little something, eyeballing instead of measuring, and seeing how to make something good from what is available. Here in Honduras, food preparation for the average Honduran we know and visit with doesn't really involve too many canned or frozen foods. Shopping can look less like going to a supermarket once a week and look more like taking a bus to the open-air market to lug home sacks of dirty vegetables and portions of rice and beans. Or, it may look like sending a child to the nearby pulpería (little shops with almost everything run out of neighboring homes) to bring home a few eggs, an avocado, some cheese, and some plantains to make for dinner. Living here, I can't responsibly cook exactly like my Mom because while there are frozen and canned foods, they aren't cheap. But, I also am a North American who comes from a country where there is every kind of food available somewhere or another. So, when I can avoid food monotony both for health and just personal tastes, I do. Thus, in the time that I've been here, I've joyfully developed my own style of cooking drawing from both worlds and making good use of what is available to me. In the process, I have found that I prefer to make things from scratch, and while it is a lot of work, the taste of fresh ingredients is infinitely better than the taste of processed ingredients. They're also healthier. Lucky for me, fruits and vegetables are very cheap in comparison to what they cost in the US.
Over the years, I've cooked for a lot of different people. The first were the girls at the Manos Extendidas transition home. Their go-to meal was tortillas con quesillo, or two corn tortillas filled with gooey Honduran cheese and fried. They often slathered theirs in ketchup; I prefer hot sauce. Not the healthiest thing, but a good example of Honduran comfort food. I had a small group in my little apartment, and in addition to preparing lessons, I also prepared muffin tin mini-frittatas, smooth cake batter fudge with colorful sprinkles, and lime meringue pie. There were almost never any leftovers. During the time I was going to Teen Challenge every Sunday, I was making food for 10 people and always a little extra to leave some leftovers with the boys. My efforts to expand their palates weren't always well-accepted, but because they were hungry, they were good sports about it. I think their most loved foods were lasagna, Mexican lasagna, huevos rancheros, and when I'd bring all the fixings to make baleadas--scrambled eggs with bologna, shredded chicken, avocados, plantains, refried beans, Honduran cheese, and Honduran cream. (Baleadas are a true Honduran food. They're basically a flour tortilla filled with refried beans, scrambled eggs, Honduran cheese, Honduran cream, and anything else you want to add.) They also loved my desserts--fruit pizza, peanut butter banana tacos, and brownies. You should have seen how many trips I had to make carrying all of these pans to my little Tercel.
After the Teen Challenge years, I had two kids living at home, and that meant lots of cooking. I felt like all I did was cook. The easiest thing for me to whip up were pasta salads with hard boiled eggs and avocado or Marvin's favorite, spaghetti. We also always had rice and beans on hand. With that said, I was always trying to make new things. I love to cook, but I hate making the same things over and over. It's all about new challenges for me. As a result, the boys were often put in a position to eat things that they had never really tried or liked before--usually vegetables. You'd be surprised how picky someone who has eaten from the garbage before can be. Finally, after weeks of their non-stop whining and of their trying to eat Ramen noodles when I had spent time cooking, I got fed up. I packed up all the food we had in the house, and I stored it at Raúl's room. The only things I left were rice and beans--the two staples that some of the most impoverished people in Honduras live off of. I put a note on our empty pantry cabinet stating that I was tired of their attitude of ungratefulness (something we had talked about previously), and I told them that I had donated our month's grocery funds (apart from what was needed for rice and beans) to a ministry in Africa that provides meals for thousands of needy children, which is exactly what I had done. For one whole month, the only guaranteed food they had at their disposal was rice and beans. As their attitudes changed, I began adding food back to our pantry. I will never forget the day that Josuan convinced Raúl buy him an egg for his dinner. He was going on almost two weeks of just rice and beans, and he was desperate for anything else. We were in the parking lot after church getting ready to go home, and Josuan was tossing his beloved egg in the air and catching it. He was smug about finding a way around my rules, and he couldn't wait to get home to fry his egg. Someone warned him that he was going to drop it, but of course, he didn't pay attention. Within seconds, his egg was broken in pieces in the parking lot with the yolk oozing all over the pavement. I will never forget the look on his face. My actions could be taken as cruel, but I'll tell you, after that month, I have never had a single problem of complaints about food from either of my kids ever again. And, it's a memory and a lesson we can all laugh at together now.
When I didn't have kids at home anymore and had no one to cook for but myself, my cooking habits went downhill except for when I was cooking for Raúl. I hate cooking for myself. It just seems like so much effort for just one person. But, before too long, I had a reason to cook again. Raúl and I went to see a friend in prison on a pretty regular basis. He was a North American, and the only thing he was eating in prison was mostly junk food. It finally dawned on me that one of the best ways I could provide him comfort was making some familiar food for him. So, I made macaroni and cheese from scratch with buttery breadcrumbs and rich, chocolaty brownies. I made steak smothered in butter, mashed potatoes laced with cream cheese, and green beans with bacon. Some of the things I made were odd for the Hondurans in our company, but the look on our friend's face and how he treasured any leftovers were so worth it.
Since we started our small group in our home, I'm back to cooking for fifteen people every Saturday. Sometimes, it's a challenge to get my checkbook and that number to play nice with my culinary ambitions. But, I've learned a lot over the years. Here are a couple of those lessons:
1) When I was in college studying education, we learned about Dr. Ruby K. Payne's Framework for Understanding Poverty. Basically, part of what that framework teaches is that each person's approach to food and what they want to get out of a dining experience will vary based on their mentality (be it a poverty mentality, middle class mentality, or a wealthy mentality). Some of my biggest failures as a missionary cook has related to this concept. A lot of times, when finances permit, my goal as a cook has been to provide a new taste or culinary experience to someone who has never had the opportunity to try something before. But, most of the time, the goal of my guests is to fill their tummies to the brim. It's the quality versus quantity argument. I've learned to meet in the middle. In general, it is always better to have too much than too little. So, I never make a meal without at least trying to have leftovers. You never know who is going to stop by and what you need on hand to heat up at the last minute. Also, Hondurans are typically not shy about asking to take some leftovers home, which I receive as a glowing review.
2) Trying to make a food that is close but not exactly like a food they already love can seriously backfire on you sometimes. It's kind of like when you're expecting to take a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie, but it turns out to be oatmeal raisin. I'm not knocking oatmeal raisin cookies. I'm just saying that the expectation is what throws you off. For example, soup in Honduras is well-loved. Sundays are usually days to eat soup, and people get excited about soup here. With that said, "soup" to the Honduran population I'm most around typically means a mostly clear broth, huge chunks of vegetables that won't fit in one bite and sometimes requires the use of your hands, and large chunks of meat. That's not true in every case, but you don't see a lot of mainstream side-of-the-road places serving pureed soups or soups that don't feature chunks of substantial ingredients. This probably goes back to the mentality of what you want to get out of your food. Given this information, when I make soup for Honduran guests, I try to keep some standard Honduran conventions. I may be going for a chicken soup, but I'm going to add more vegetables than the North American standard of carrots, celery, and onions. I will probably include more vegetables that Hondurans associate with soup that will also make it more substantial--things like pataste, potatoes, yuca, and sweet potatoes. I don't usually make the chunks so huge they won't fit in one bite, but I make sure that the soup is chunky enough to feel filling. And, I usually try to find some kind of meat to include even if I can't do huge chunks.
3) Know your audience. There are definitely Hondurans who are up for trying things drastically different than what they're used to. Raúl will pretty much eat anything I put in front of him without a single complaint, and a lot of times, he really likes what I make even though it's new. But, when we go out to eat, and he has his choice, it is guaranteed he will almost always order something familiar. Case in point, we can go to absolutely any restaurant, and no matter how sophisticated it is, if there are French fries on the menu, he will order them. The best luck I've had with the Hondurans we are around is to use ingredients they are familiar with. I almost never make a whole meal of unfamiliar ingredients. If I introduce a new ingredient, I make sure that it's included with familiar ones. That is why lasagna, chili, Mexican tacos, and sloppy joes are some of the biggest hits. Usually the only exposure to Asian food that a Honduran who has low-resources will have is from the Honduran version of Chinese fried rice or chop suey. It's definitely Honduras' own interpretation, and it's different from the US version. (Just as the US version isn't authentically Chinese at all.) Thus, foods with differing Asian flavors don't always go over well. With that said, Thai flavors of lemongrass, coconut, garlic, cilantro, limes, and tamarind can actually go over quite well because those flavors are similar to coastal Honduran and Nicaraguan flavors. Overall, if you want to make your guests feel comfortable and welcome, it's worth it to have a general knowledge of their existing palate.
4) With all of the previous advice mentioned, also, I'd say don't be afraid to make some things you know your guests haven't had before. I have found that being able to try something new can make my Honduran guests feel special even if they seem initially timid. If there is a food that your guests won't intuitively know how to eat, make sure you give a little explanation. And, don't feel insulted if they want to smother whatever you make with ketchup, hot sauce, salt, or some other condiment. (My husband does this on a regular basis with every food!)
5) Be culturally sensitive. This isn't a lesson I have had to learn to the hard way. This is just kind of common sense observation. Food and drink is a big part of culture. Every culture has its own belief systems. For example, within the Christian community in Honduras, generally speaking, it is frowned upon to drink alcohol. That is not the case for every Christian individual, but because of the culture that surrounds drinking here, it's an action that can easily be associated with sin and excess. It's something that we're mindful of in order to maintain clean testimonies to those watching us. On a lighter note, Hondurans find some food and beverage combinations very weird. I will never forget the time I took Raúl to a 50's diner-themed burger joint. He didn't know what to order, so I got us burgers, fries, and milkshakes. He was astounded that mixing a milkshake and a burger in his stomach didn't result in violent illness. It has something to do with the idea of combining milk with eating food (even though they have no problems with cheese or sour cream). So, I never even offer milk as a beverage with dinner. Just another cultural tidbit, a lot of Hondurans think that it is harmful to eat hot soup and drink a cold beverage at the same time. A lot of them will refuse a beverage when soup is being served for that reason.
6) There is a difference between guests and people you allow to be family. The mentality shifts from let me entertain and provide for you to let us share and make something together. A lot of the kids who have known us for years can come into our home and ask if we have anything to heat up. If we don't, I'll often pull out the frying pan and let them make themselves some eggs. These are also the kids we put to work dishing the food out and pouring beverages when we have small group. Or the kids we'll ask to pick up some tortillas on the way up our hill. It is great to start community and be the person serving, but it's also great to let discipleship get messy and to start teaching the ones you've developed relationship with to come alongside you in serving others. Both are equally important, and both aspects can demonstrate love to those around you.
7) Plan ahead to minimize stress but also keep some food staples on hand for those last minute emergencies. Living in Honduras, last-minute guests can be easily accommodated with the help of the pulpería. Within minutes you can have cooked beans, dairy products like Honduran cheese and sour cream, and eggs at your disposal. What can be more challenging to find depending on the hour are fruits and vegetables. So, I try to keep everything on hand that I need to make a quick salad--plenty of greens, tomatoes, hardboiled eggs, and the ingredients needed to whip up some homemade salad dressing in the blender. I also typically have a starch like rice made in bulk to be able to eat off of all week. And I almost always have the ingredients to make spaghetti ready when needed. When you know you're going to be cooking for a crowd, try to do as much prep beforehand as you can. On Saturdays, I generally clean house, get ready, teach an English class, and by four, I have to get started on the food. The more prep I've done earlier, even if it's just chopping up the vegetables, is less stress for me and last minute prep before people arrive. I've been off of my meal prep game since I got back from the States because of not having a set grocery buying day or a vehicle to make that kind of planning predictable. So, this past Saturday, I found myself sweaty and in need of a shower, assembling 30 Chipotle-style burritos, about 20 minutes before people were set to arrive. I've determined I'm not doing that this week.
8) Give yourself a break every once in a while. If you are cooking for a crowd on a regular basis, every once in a while, give yourself the night off. For me, that means once a month or every two months buying the aforementioned Chinese fried rice because it's the most economic option for a crowd or buying some pizza. No one in our little circle ever minds, and ministering through providing meals isn't a performance anyway.
9) Accept help. This is a point Shauna Niequist makes that I whole-heartedly agree with. Developing real community means providing for others' needs, but it also means having needs yourself and allowing others to contribute to your needs. If someone offers to bring something or help clean up, take them up on it even if you initially feel shy. It's important to learn to receive just as it's important to learn to give.
10) Release your expectations (of perfection). Entertaining or cooking for others almost never goes as planned. People are messy, and they bring their own expectations and needs to the table. Part of facilitating real community is not being so rigid that you can't recognize when a moment is calling for you to put your plans on the back burner.
11) Seek to learn! One of the first ways I ever bonded with my mother-in-law (before she was my mother-in-law) was by seeking her out to teach me how to make nacatamales. Being teachable and valuing what other cultures can teach us through food are great evangelistic assets because they build relationships.
I'm sure that there is more wisdom on this topic, but I'm still learning. When we first started the small group, we fielded some comments about why we eat dinner before sharing prayer and a lesson, and the reason is that dinner is when real relationships are actually formed. We're running out of space in my little house for the number of people coming, but that just means that people take their plate of food to sit on the cozy couch. As they munch on green salad and spoon out steaming soup, lick their chicken bones clean and squirt hot sauce on their taco, they also talk and listen, joke and play. This is real life, and to help someone feel comfortable enough to talk about the difficult topics, you need to facilitate some lighthearted play and nourishing enjoyment. They need to feel safe and part of a familial table. One of the things that has been difficult for me in living away from my family is that I can't just plop down at my Grandmom's table for some gazpacho soup or my Nannie's table for a Reuben sandwich or open my mom's crockpot to some comforting beef stroganoff. If there is a food I'm craving, I'm the one who has to make it. There is something so soul-soothing to me about someone else purposefully cooking for me, and it's one of my most heart-warming joys when I return to the States. There is love communicated through food, and that's something I keep in mind when one of our guests asks for their fourth helping of dinner. When was the last time someone cooked for that person?
There is a reason that there are stories in the Bible about Jesus sharing a lakeside meal of freshly caught fish with the disciples and about his feeding the 5,000. There is a reason that the Israelites kept the sanctity of the Passover meal and God commanded them to celebrate specific things by feasting. There is a reason God provided manna, and Jesus turned water into wine. They are the same reasons that celebratory or comforting food is present in times of weddings and funerals. Food--what we share of our own time, finances, energy, and culinary creativity--is a representation of how Jesus gives us Himself. Our human need to eat in order to live and have energy reminds us of our dependency on the God of our Provision. And, that common need unites us regardless of culture, finances, location, or language. Food within ministry can play an almost forgotten role, or it can be a distraction to pat ourselves on the back without offering eternal life. Sometimes, it is about satiating hunger pangs. My husband, every time he prays, especially for a meal, always remembers to ask God to provide food for those who have nothing to fill their stomachs because he knows what that feels like. And, while he's praying for physical needs, I pray that God would also ease loneliness, invite others to His table to be a part of His family, and lead others into trustworthy, compassionate community because I know what it's like to hunger for that. To me, the best ministry seeks to nourish the whole person--body, soul, and spirit.
In the spirit of community--and helping a girl out--what is your go-to meal whenever you're feeding a crowd? Feel free to leave your suggestions in the comments!
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