By Brenda Blackhawk 

 

It was about three Lents ago now, that my congregation last had a Lenten soup supper. I used to love coming to Salem, sharing a hot meal with my church family, and then singing along to Holden Evening Prayer. The Blackhawk family used to volunteer to make the soups for one week; my mom, my sisters and I each prepared a totally different flavor and style.   

I love food. That’s probably not a surprising statement for anyone who knows me, but what’s not to love? It nourishes, sure. But it is also a creative expression, a satisfying endeavor, a means of bringing people together, a way to show someone you love them, and so much more. 

To me, food is about making memories with loved ones.

I come from a family of cooks, coming down from the maternal side. My grandmother cooked in Northside restaurants and bars for most of her life; everyone down Broadway knew Betty Stoltenburg. My mother owned and operated Lou Ann’s Restaurant (in the Thrivent Financial building) from 2001 – 2012. And I had a spatula in my hand on a cooks’ line by the ripe old age of 14.   

In 2008, Grandma Betty, Auntie Shelley, and Mom struggle to make the Coconut Indulgences

We’re a family that doesn’t gather without a meal. We always show up with something delicious to contribute and are quick to share our favorite recipes. We all have different tastes and styles and skill levels, but we bond over the creating and the eating.   

We are cooks, NOT bakers. There’s a difference (other kitchen creators will understand). We don’t even like to bake. Yet, every year the women in my family gather a few weeks before Christmas to bake a ton of holiday treats. My mom and my aunt, Shelley, started the tradition some 16 years ago, when my grandmother was still alive.  

Not even one of us is a very good baker, nor do we really like the process of baking. But we love to do a project together. We love taking a whole day, analyzing the recipes, assigning tasks, laughing and talking, and reaping the rewards of a hard day’s work. Plus, we all have a bit of a sweet tooth.  

 

TO ME, FOOD IS ABOUT MAKING MEMORIES with loved ones. You know that feeling you get when you eat a meal that’s tied to a special moment in your life? I call it a “food memory.” All my favorite foods are the ones with a food memory. I can tell you a story for almost every recipe in my little recipe box. 

Holy Communion is a perfect example of a food memory. We share food and drink in community with one another, recalling a sacred moment long ago, and it is a practice that brings us comfort.  

“Food memories are holy.” 

Food memories are holy. And they can become more potent when life changes things up on you. On February 17, 2022, my Aunt Shelley passed away after a six-year battle with cancer. We were so blessed to have those six years of meals and food memories. We even managed to have one last family cookie-baking day this last Christmas, creating one more shared food memory. 

The 2021 bakers. Our last time baking with Auntie Shelley.

The very best thing about food memories is their ability to mentally transport us back to those sacred moments in our lives. They connect us to our loved ones of the past as well as the future generations. An added bonus is that they are never stagnant; there’s always someone playing with the recipes and creating new moments, improving the food memories for years to come. 

I’m sad that we’ve lost Lenten soup supper to the pandemic, at least for the time being. And I hope and pray that all our other church communities can get back to sharing in their food memories soon. In the meantime, do me a favor and take some time this week to create (or buy) and enjoy a food that brings you comfort. Happy eating!