Hunger is a natural part of the human experience. There are days I crave dark chocolate, the rush of cheap store-bought candy sugar, a homemade pastry, the salty tang of potato chips or the tongue-numbing spice of Buldak instant ramen (don’t sleep on it).
But, living at a Catholic Worker house, what I make for dinner is mostly determined not by a New York Times recipe list or my cravings du jour but by what was at the food pantry or on the food run that week. What is around me? What is there to eat? What was left over from the soup kitchen or community dinner?
Listening to the Gospel, I imagine Christ’s mouth watering. I can almost smell the fresh bread baking. I imagine The Tempter offering freshly baked kaak—a circular, bagel-like bread native to Jerusalem. My mouth is watering just picturing it. It’s so delicious to be offered exactly what you’re craving.
The home cook’s situation, staring down half-containers of salad dressing and mountains of celery, may seem more restricting. But every home cook hungering for bread in the desert should watch Chopped, the Food Network reality TV show with immaculate vibes, no notes, that makes a game out of answering the question: what the heck can I make with the most random foods moldering in the crisper box? Debuting in 2009, Chopped is still going: with more than 60 seasons and closing in on 800 episodes.
So what is Chopped’s appeal?
I think it’s because—although we do not have the fabulous equipment and endless refrigerators of specialty ingredients to work with—we all know the feeling of trying to make something fabulous out of the unideal. The joy of creativity is found in limits. It may seem limiting to use only what you have, but as the chefs on Chopped have taught me, it frees to for daring acts of creativity. In order to get there, you have to look inward. You can find something coherent in four unrelated ingredients. You can’t have poverty of spirit or poverty of imagination. You don’t need the bread—you can do a lot with just a few stones.
These are the greater poverties God comes to save us from. Don’t get so wrapped up in your immediate craving you lose sight of the larger goal. Don’t get trapped into the question posed to you. Don’t limit yourself—the limits set you free.
What is your desert—what are you hungering for in the wilderness?
And what is the dessert—who are the angels comforting you in the midst of your hunger today?
Renée Roden is the author of the forthcoming “Tantur: Seeking Christian Unity in a Divided City” with Liturgical Press. You can learn more about her work at reneedarlineroden.com and
read her writing on Substack at Sweet Unrest.
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