Bread & Wine: A Recommendation and A Review

One stunning realization that has echoed in my brain since acknowledging that i. am. not. strong. is that my inherent weakness requires that I must care for myself.  I must nourish my body.  I must give myself rest.  I must build up and stretch the muscles needed to carry me through my work as a mother.  I must go to the source of all strength to sustain me, continually.  (If God's grace is sufficient for my weakness, I must learn to understand that grace.)  It would seem these are basic requirements for a life well lived, but they are tasks that have eluded me as of late.  I have skipped so many meals, and given my body a poor excuse for food when it grumbles.  I have not slept when needed, and tried to force sleep when fresh air would have been a better choice.

And then...

Right in the beginning of this season of relearning what it means to nourish myself, I was given the incredible opportunity to read an advance copy of Shauna Nieuquist's newest book, Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table.  As soon as my copy arrived, I tore it open and began to feed my soul from this book celebrating food, love, and doing life together. Shauna's words nourished my soul and fed me something I was hungry for--an affirmation that the little ways we serve our family and friends matter.  The meals made for friends in celebration after having babies or in comfort after experiencing illness or loss, those meals put something of substance where we cannot find words. Bread & Wine showed me that Tasty Tuesday family meals around the table, trying new foods on our fanciest plates, are a way my children and my husband experience my love for them.  It reminded me that Coffee & Muffins morning playgroup with moms is that space--that table as a safe zone--that so many of us desperately need.

"The heart of hospitality is about creating space for someone to feel seen and heard and loved. 

 It's about declaring your table a safe zone, a place of warmth and nourishment."

The most beautiful thing about this book, for me, is the way Shauna's hospitality shines through the pages.  As I read her stories, I feel seen and heard.  Although our stories are different, the feelings she shares are universal.  The association between food and shame, the ways food is tied to both giving and receiving love, and the fears that hold us back from new experiences--these are pieces of each of our bigger stories.  Shauna inspires me to try new recipes, to invite more people into my home, without overwhelming me or making me feel guilty or like a failure because I haven't done it before.  She shares game-changing roasted broccoli and simply and perfectly prepared scrambled eggs right alongside elaborate dinner parties featuring printed menu cards--and I feel as though sharing love through each meal is not only possible, but the only ingredient that is truly necessary in any preparation.

If you are looking for encouragement as a home cook, a friend, a sister, a wife, a mom--you will find it in the pages of this book.  Leafing through these pages, I feel as though I am at Shauna's table.  I am sitting in her safe zone, and it is a place of warmth and nourishment for my heart.  Not only is my heart encouraged, but Shauna opens her heart to me as well.  She brings me into the hard places in her own life, the moments that catch you off guard and steal your breath and don't represent your best.  She shares with so much honesty that I am drawn deeper into her story, and become more wiling to examine the darker places of my own story.

"That's what shame does, though.
It whispers to us that everyone is as obsessed with our failings as we are.
...
Shame tells us that we're wrong for having the audacity to be happy when we're so clearly terrible.
Shame wants us to be deeply apologetic for just daring to exist.
...
But I want to dare to exist, and, more than that, to live audaciously,
in all my imperfect, lumpy, scarred glory,
because the alternative is letting shame win."

Bread & Wine may begin as one woman's love letter to life around the table, but somewhere in the middle it became a beacon shining on my own loves.  It continually reminded me of times where I did more than exist, where I have lived, at my own kitchen table.  My table is a well-worn hand-me-down from my husband's late grandmother.  It is a simple wooden kitchen table that held lovingly homemade dishes every Sunday afternoon for years, served to my husband's family and friends in his grandmother's dining room.  When we first married and the table passed to us, it mostly supported heavy textbooks and bowls of popcorn through late-night study sessions in our college apartment.  The first holidays I hosted revolved around that table, though, and then it was crammed to bursting with friends and food.  I have spoon fed babies there, admonished toddlers to sit still, listened to children roaring with laughter over their own knock-knock jokes, and shared in the first "real" conversations of growing big kids.  Although it is beginning to show signs of wear, I cannot imagine ever parting with that kitchen table; that table is where I have lived.

Shauna's words remind us of the way of food.  She brings us back to our need for nourishment and our need for one another.  The table is one space we share our common needs.  Shauna's invitation, throughout this book, is "Come to the table."  As I closed the book and began to digest her words, that is exactly what I wanted to do.  In my first reading of the book, I was ravenous--so hungry for soul nourishment I could not slow down enough to taste the nuances of each section.  I cannot wait to begin the book again, and this time consume it slowly, as you would a favorite meal that has been lovingly prepared, returning now and again to the table for a bit more of this or a little of that.  And as I reread it, I have every intention of coming to the table.  Bringing my family and friends, and preparing the recipes along the way.  I plan to make Shauna's Breakfast Cookies for playgroup and host a get-together that will involve trying Mango Chicken Curry--a whole new genre of food for my family.  I plan to revisit favorite recipes and freshen up our staples, being mindful and aware of the work that I am doing.

"...there's no replacement for what happens when we make something with our own hands, 

directed by our own senses, 

motivated by our own love for the people we're serving."

I look forward to sharing more of this journey with you, as I try recipes and share moments from around my own beloved kitchen table.  I encourage you to "Come to the table," as well.  Read this book and be inspired to try something new.  Read this book and be reminded of the places you have lived, the food you have enjoyed, the life all around you.  Read this book and be encouraged to love those near you well, by sharing your home, your heart, your food.  Above all else, friend, read this book and be nourished.