FOOD FOR THOUGHT
(09/05/2010)
THE
MAKER'S MARINADE
Cindy Hong
While writing here last
week I needed help describing the stuffed mushrooms. Even after studying
the recipe again, my words came nowhere near to how the mushrooms looked
or tasted. Perhaps reading the food section in the Houston Chronicle would
give the needed vocabulary. Heading into the garage where past issues
of the Houston Chronicle were awaiting their trip to the recycling center,
I sifted through the stacks to find the restaurant and food reviews. I
quickly skimmed the articles, prayed for osmosis, and attempted to imitate
the writing flavor in portraying the mushrooms in all their beauty and
succulence. A few edits later, the final draft was inserted into the bulletin.
A couple hours later, it came back, bleeding in red ink. The heart stopped
for several beats. While the office has final say before printing, it
usually doesn't come back covered in red. Thoughts started flying around
in my head. Too many grammatical mistakes? Spell check on strike? Something
wrong said about God? Once the heart started again, I peeked at the red
ink. Turns out a co-worker (hint: name rhymes with “soy” and “toy”),
our in-house foodie, enhanced the piece using cooking-specific words.
He made six changes, but six things I was incapable of doing. His intimate
knowledge with food highlighted my lack, and from there, it jumped to
the parallels in my spiritual life. How often have I been wayward, then
suddenly find myself in trouble, and not knowing how to begin picking
up the pieces with God? I want a quick fix. After all, I live by the microwave,
using it to heat water for instant coffee, nuke oatmeal, and make popcorn.
My unnamed friend lives by a different rhythm. He has a habit of reading
recipes for enjoyment, taking time to browse the aisles for the right
ingredients, marinating for hours or days, then finally, grilling, pan
frying, boiling, simmering until the taste is just right. It is an intimacy
with food that has been cultivated over a lifetime. As a result, he could
make the stuffed mushrooms sizzle on paper. The intimacy he had with food,
I found myself craving it with God; desiring to be marinated in the things
of God, so that when heated and cooked, can be a flavor that comes only
from him.
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