Any book that begins with the invitation to ‘read the book in the bath,
and then take it to the kitchen to spill wine and oil on it as you cook’ is a
book that ingratiates itself to me before I open the cover. The principle of the book is hear about how
an open kitchen and welcoming house can build, shape and create community. It is a book to be used and returned to time
and time again; as life shifts and lives meet together.
It is a book that explores themes of hospitality, hope,
disappointment, miscarriage, faith, sacrament and food. Part memoir, part recipe book, it is a
strange book to categorise. Each chapter
has a journalistic style – short and sharp.
It is reminiscent of Giles Coren’s book ‘How to eat well’ but with less
swearing and a little more humility.
Rather like a meal, Niequist enables people to savour each chapter; each
insight into her experience – or to hurriedly move on to the next mouthful before
the requirements of life interrupt once again.
Individual meals make Niequist’s reflections about
life. Food becomes her anchor to explore
events and emotions in stark vulnerability and clarity. She shares about the friends bought a
casserole as she came home from a hospital appointment feeling empty and
hollow. The leaving banquet as she moved
to a different city. The baby shower
where friends all bought their favourite dish to share. And those serendipitous moments where good
friends show up, uninvited, and make themselves at home by washing up, setting
the table, and boiling the kettle.
Niequist is an advocate of the principle that hospitality
begins with being comfortable with chaos.
It is the invitation to join in with life that may not be fully hovered,
dusted, or clean. But amidst the
physical chaos comes the invitation to share the stories of life. The laughter and pain that happens in the
security and safety of friendship and family.
As she goes, Niequist provides (gluten free) recipes
along with the sections in the book, which culminate in a final section of menu
plans for book clubs. So there’s her
final invitation. Pull up a chair (or
box or blanket); bring a dish – the recipes are included – and share our
insights about ‘Bread and Wine.’ As you
do, listen carefully – for therein you may indeed catch a glimpse of grace.
Questions for your
book club:
‘I can’t imagine life without a table between us.’
Who
would you most like to eat with and why?
Niequist talks about the power of the dining table What is the most important piece of furniture
in your house? What makes it
significant?
Which room of your house helps you best connect to God?
Niequist recites numerous tales of chaotic meals shared
with friends at the most humbling and crucial times in life.
How
does her willingness to embrace the chaotic side of hospitality make you feel?
What
is the one thing in your house that you would hide before letting someone in?
Have
you ever offered or received hospitality at a significant moment in your
life? What happened?
When
have you been offered bad hospitality?
Niequist reflects on the sacramentality of sharing food
around a meal table.
Why is sharing bread and wine
significant to you?
Is
she right that every meal shared is a sacramental act?
What
makes hospitality holy?
What is the best meal you have ever shared? What made it special?
This book is filled with recipes and invitations to share
culinary experimentation. What is your
signature dish or family recipe?
Who are you going to invite for dinner this week?
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