So I left you with veal and the promise of fish. I thought this week I would focus more on New Testament story. And it started with dessert.
(Okay, I’ll be honest. This week started with roast pork. Yes, there are pigs in the Bible, but they are either frowned upon or take after lemmings. Or maybe both. But pork roast usually goes over fairly well in my household, which is nice because it is a big and frugal meal and makes sandwiches for much of the week. But maybe I will skip the roast pork recipe and get to dessert, which was our experimental portion for the day.)
We went with figs. In our neighbourhood, there are lots of small grocers who set tables out in front of their shops to entice you in. I have a soft spot for displayed figs. They are so plump and settled looking, nestled together in their box, each wrapped in its own paper. You have to love food that comes so coddled. Like oranges at Christmas, or eggs in their own eggcups. They look just like little presents.
Figs are also beautiful when they are still growing on the tree. A few years ago I was in Spain in the fall, just when the figs are at their heaviest and their best. Sweetly presentably, I can tell you. And very pinchable. I can understand Jesus’ disappointment concerning the figless fig tree (Matthew 21). Definitely curse worthy.
But the shop had figs when we wanted figs so figs it was for us. I set them down on my kitchen counter, four of them sitting smugly on their heavy rounded bottoms. Then I sliced
each into four sections, and I popped the sections into a small dish. On top, I dolloped some yogurt (plain), drizzled some honey (local and fragrant) and scattered some pinenuts (yummy, but maybe extravagant). Beangirl helped with the assembly line, and she was very proud of her accomplishment by the end. The result: beautiful, and so very good that I was persuaded to make them the next night, too.
(Beangirl wants me to say that the honey and the yogurt go very nicely together. Good to note.)
The next night, we turned our thoughts to lamb. Perhaps not Paschal lamb, roasted and eaten with bitter herbs. For a little family, lamb chops seem altogether more feasible. I rubbed them with garlic and pepper and cooked them in a frying pan. I served them with pita bread and a Middle Eastern-inspired salad, putting a couple more ideas together from The Book of Jewish Food (which I must say is a delicious read.) Into my salad went: onions and eggplant cooked over low heat in olive oil, chickpeas and oranges, and I seasoned it with pepper, cumin, and fresh basil and mint leaves, which Blue meticulously removed. The kids really liked the salad and the bread, Blue liked the lamb, though Beangirl found it a little chewy. Spouse and I enjoyed it all.
Next experiment: whole fish. On the way home from the grocery store, I told the kids the story about Jesus meeting with his friends on the beach after the resurrection. I love the idea that, post-resurrection, Jesus took the time to do important things like have a campfire with his friends. The kids liked the idea of a fire, but I insisted on wrapping our fish in tinfoil instead. I slipped a few slices of lemon inside first, and a little oil, too. I served the beastie with cuminy onions, tomatoes for some colour, and more flatbreads. I should have oiled the foil, I think, because Beastie’s skin slipped off when I unwrapped him. But, even naked, he was flaky and delicious, though perhaps a little lonely. I think next time, I will buy two fish instead. You know what they say about heads.
Conclusions: We’ve had fun experimenting. There has been a certain amount of “what-on-earth-will-Mummy-do-next?” about the whole game, but also a sense of exploring together which is never a bad thing in the kitchen. And we’ve enjoyed the storytelling aspect to our Biblical eating experiment. Stories add excitement to unfamiliar meals. It is my hope that the meals will also make the stories memorable. I don’t know if eating lentils makes you more Biblically literate, but I like to think that telling stories in the kitchen and at the table helps to make those stories a part of your home, and thus, part of your worldview. Even if you aren’t yet five years old. You are what you eat, after all.
