This Thanksgiving I prayed for a
kitchen.
After asking God, I asked a women I
had met at church. As I sent the email I thought,
God I would be
so grateful for a kitchen, but if you give it through this woman
after I ask her, I will probably not give you as much glory or credit as if you just gave us a kitchen out of the blue.
As it
turned out, the woman was unable to help. But coincidentally, (out
of the blue), another
kitchen was offered
to
us.
When Thanksgiving morning came around, we trooped to Grace Cafe
to begin our thanksgiving quest. We sent two people on motor bikes to
get groceries- I stayed behind to survey our kitchen capabilities.
It
turns out, there
are no ovens in Asia. At
least very few outside bakeries.
Here
they have woks.
This
makes baking
difficult.
…… However… at the cafe we had
a confection oven.
When
the shoppers arrived with the groceries we went strait to work. Aided by some of our
Vietnamese friends, we
boiled and peeled potatoes,
chopped onions, smeared butter, rubbed spices and snapped green
beans. The most exciting moment came
when the meat was unveiled. Three chickens and one duck. All with
their heads and feet still attached. Resolutely one of the guys pulled out a cutting board and a cleaver… and lopped the offending
heads off.
All three (small) chickens and the duck were slathered in butter
(and whatever spices we found in the cabinet), then squeezed together
into the confection oven.
When we pulled out our four fowl, and set all of our projects on
the table, we had green beans and asparagus, two kinds of potatoes
(twice baked sweet potatoes and Pennsylvania Dutch mashed potatoes),
gravy, hot apple cider, and pumpkin pie- from Asian pumpkins.
All this was concocted using three burners and a dutch oven.
Thank you.
Team Illuminate and a dozen Vietnamese friends sat down to partake of this amazing dinner. All of the food experiments turned out excellent- though maybe not all exactly like their American counterparts. (swapped ingredients can cause great inventions to be borne)
During the meal and the lounging around/play Banana Grams time
afterward I felt this wonderful peaceful sense of friendship, and of
belonging. You know when you go to someones house and there is
always that awkward tension in the back of your mind as you wonder
how long should I stay here, when do I leave? What are the
etiquette rules this particular household observes? Is it okay to sit
on the arm of their couch…? In this sense the cafe felt
like home. Like you were not trapped there. Not uncomfortably fenced
by house rules that may or may not exist.
In the Philippines the children called you auntie. In Malaysia
all elders were aunt or uncle. Everywhere we go we see the beautiful
body. And this thanksgiving, in Vietnam, I was not alone on the other
side of the world. I was with family.
