The essay below was first published in print in the winter issue (2025) of the Joie de Vivre Journal... and online on August 6, 2025.

One Wednesday afternoon in early August 2014, I found myself at a table with Chef Leah Chase in her restaurant, Dooky Chase’s, in the heart of Treme. It was after the lunch rush had passed, and we sat at a white linen-draped table in the smaller dining room. Ice water in crystal goblets perspired in slow motion as we talked. I was there to interview “Miss Leah” for a radio segment. The segment was only 30 minutes. Yet, almost two hours later, we were still talking.

This woman—who, at the time, informed me she was 91 and a half years old—regaled me with stories of the countless celebrities and the plethora of presidents, prime ministers, and prelates she had hosted in her restaurant. Michael Jackson (and his brothers), Hank Aaron, Ray Charles, Ernest Gaines, and Quincy Jones were but a few of those famous patrons. Many of them were repeat guests, and some became friends. Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama both dined there. It was well known that President Bush would never come to New Orleans without first calling Miss Leah to make a reservation or to invite her to join him for dinner at another establishment. None of these esteemed guests came to marvel at the restaurant’s architecture or admire its decor, despite the fact that the restaurant was filled with cherished art that Miss Leah had collected over the years. They came for the food and to experience the heart of the chef who prepared it.

A central theme of our discussion that day was hospitality. At 91 and a half, Miss Leah could still recount to me what she served to whom and when from decades before. She told me that President Bush loved her Grits and Breakfast Shrimp and her Braised Quail with Plum Jelly. She told me that Michael Jackson loved her Sweet Potato Pie and that she would ship pies to him every year. Southern hospitality is well and good—and we should certainly cherish it—but as a Catholic, Miss Leah knew there was something more to it, something beyond what could be seen. A cradle Catholic, one of 13 children, born and raised in Madisonville, LA, Miss Leah innately understood the sacramental nature of hospitality. She loved people; that was her secret. And she truly believed that all the world’s problems could be solved around the table over a bowl of hot gumbo and a piece of fried chicken. Of course, somebody had to put in the work to make that gumbo and fry that chicken. That’s simply part of being hospitable. It’s part of living the gospel.

Sometimes living the gospel in this way—being hospitable and serving others—can seem to result in big, yet easy, blessings. For example, Miss Leah not only served royalty, but you could say that through her service, she became royalty. She was known the world over as the “Queen of Creole Cuisine.” And, beyond that, thanks to the magic of Disney, Miss Leah was “transformed” into royalty with the release of The Princess and the Frog in 2009. She was the inspiration behind Disney’s Princess Tiana.

But living a life of hospitality doesn’t always look and feel glamorous. A glance toward the life of Dorothy Day can give us another view entirely. Dorothy was a convert to Catholicism. Prior to her conversion at the age of 30, she lived a troublesome life. She was a college dropout, an activist concerned with the plight of the poor and the working class, and a journalist. She was deeply influenced by socialist and communist ideas, yet she never became a Communist. At one point, she had an abortion. She later lived with a man she truly loved. But he was an atheist who didn’t believe in marriage. She carried and gave birth to his child. It was during this pregnancy that her heart began to open to the Catholic Church. She had been on a search for a long time, restless and aware of a “presence,” despite being an atheist. She was, as she later described, “haunted by God.” Eventually, she left the man she loved to follow Christ and to become a member of the Church. This was the beginning of the Dorothy who—after her death at the age of 83—would be described by Fr. Daniel Berrigan, SJ, as a woman who “lived as if the gospel were true.” –Read the rest at Joie de Vivre Journal.

The following is an exerpt of an essay I wrote earlier this year. It was publised a few months ago on the blog of a dear friend, Paul Pastor. You can find the full post at The Rose Fire.

“You are what you eat, from your head down to your feet,” is the opening line of a health PSA jingle that ran between cartoons on Saturday mornings in the 1970s. It was a catchy tune, one that still gets stuck in my head from time to time. And, anatomically, its message is true. 

Our bodies assimilate the food we ingest. If we want to be healthy, we need to eat healthy foods. Given our current health crisis in the United States (the alarming rates of diabetes, heart disease, etc.), perhaps we need to bring this PSA back. But I have recently been imagining another version of this PSA, a version that would urge us to have healthy souls. The first line would go something like this: “You become what you see.” Or, perhaps better: “You become what you behold.” That message is true, too. 

Human beings are born imitators. Despite our best intentions, we tend to grow up to be much like our parents. This trait that we have—to become what we see—is why businesses spend billions of dollars in advertising each year. It’s why a brand will pay big bucks to have their products placed in movies. It’s why famous musicians, football players, and gymnasts are paid handsomely to promote brands. It’s why Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram utilize “infinite scroll” in their apps. There is something about our ability to see—and the way we choose to use that ability—that influences who we are and who we become.

I remember when I first learned to ride a motorcycle. I practiced and practiced and practiced. At first, I rode around the block. After a few days of that, I moved on to touring through the neighborhood. A few days later I ventured further out. I was determined to do it right. I did not want to end up in a hospital or morgue. After practicing for a couple of weeks, I signed up for a two-day safety course. One bit of wisdom our instructor said over and over again was this: Look where you want to go. On a bike or a motorcycle, your arms and those two wheels are going to take you where your eyes are pointing. 

Life, it turns out, works the same way.

You can find the full post at The Rose Fire.

There's a new literary journal in town: Joie de Vivre (the Joy of Living). It's a South Louisiana thing, and I'm excited that it's here. I am also grateful to have had a poem published in the journal in April. It's titled Blackened Redfish and you can read it here: Blackened Redfish — Joie de Vivre (jdvjournal.com)

Check our Joie de Vivre and follow them on Facebook , Instagram and Twitter. Good things are happening and more is on the way.

From their website...

Joie de Vivre is a quarterly print journal of Catholic art, culture, history, and letters for South Louisiana. We provide a space for artists, poets, pastors, historians, theologians, and story-tellers to reflect upon the Catholic faith, the arts, and their intersection with our native culture. Joie de Vivre is a publication of The St. Louis IX Art Society.

Why Joie de Vivre?

Joie de Vivre is French for the “joy of living.” As South Louisiana Catholics, this phrase captures well our cultural experience and history, even in the face of great suffering and trial. Despite the harsh realities which our ancestors experienced in exile, immigration, and slavery and which we experience today due to natural disasters, economic hardship, and moral and environmental degradation, we have continued to persevere, together, as a humble, hopeful, and joyful pilgrim Church in search of the face of God in both the Eucharist and one another.

This journal is a celebration of all that is good, true, and beautiful in our experience of life as Catholics in South Louisiana with a particular focus on the realms of art, culture, history, and letters. We hope that South Louisiana Catholics will simultaneously recover not only a deeper appreciation of the breadth and depth of our Catholic faith but also our unique identity and cultural heritage as South Louisianans, both of which go hand-in-hand.

While many in our world today consider art, beauty, and religion to be supplemental add-ons to a normal human life, Joie de Vivre believes otherwise. There is nothing more fundamental about the human experience than the desire for God, the desire for truth, goodness, and beauty, and the attempt to creatively express and better live in accordance with it. Apart from these authentically human goods, human life withers, but wholly immersed in the great goods of natural experience and Christian revelation, well that’s le joie de vivre.

The full text of the poem is below:

Blackened Redfish

A thick-sliced cut of redfish glistens white,
Is quickly coated, seasoned red, in spice:
Paprika, cayenne, garlic, onion, salt,
Oregano and thyme. The dark cast-iron,
Already over-heated, splatters hot
As butter hits its surface, sizzles, browns
Instantly. Smoke assaults the eyes and blinds,
Casting doubt on heat and time. Too much?
And yet another wink and the filet,
Encrusted black, is placed atop a plate,
Then pan-sauce drizzled, and it’s promptly served.
That blackened crust will yield the choicest meat.

Last year, while perusing the racks of a Metairie uniform store, Father Daniel Brouillette spotted a fellow shopper wearing the chef’s whites of the restaurant that made his favorite crab cakes.

Ever the curious cook, the priest, known to his parishioners as “Father Bru,” approached the man with a burning question: What made the restaurant’s crab cakes so incredibly light?

The secret: Add puréed shrimp to the mixture, and not the usual suspect – bread.

“Crab cakes are ruined with bread,” said Father Bru, 30, currently in his first year as parochial vicar of St. Peter Church in Covington. “Bread makes them too heavy. And oftentimes, if they’re deep-fried, they soak up a lot of the grease because of the bread.”

The resulting recipe, devised by Father Bru after a brief period of trial and error, is shared in this issue of Holy Smoke. Lightly fried in olive oil, topped with a spicy homemade remoulade sauce, and teamed with a spring-mix salad, crab cakes are a simple and satisfying Lenten dish, said the New Orleans-born priest, who abstains from eating meat on Fridays year-round.

“You don’t deep-fry these crab cakes – they’re light, they’re fluffy, and they’re healthier. I put panko (Japanese-style bread crumbs) on top, so they get nice and brown,” Father Bru said, noting that his cornering of the crab cake chef illustrates his overarching approach to cooking: Don’t be bashful.

“Don’t feel like you have to be stuck to a recipe,” he said. “You know what tastes good together, then you go from there.”

Sportsman’s paradise

Ordained to the priesthood in 2009 and first assigned to St. Charles Borromeo Parish in Destrehan, Father Bru spent the early part of his childhood in Chalmette before moving to Covington and attending St. Peter – the elementary school of his current parish assignment. An alumnus of The St. Paul’s School, he learned to cook by “staring over Mom and Dad’s shoulders” and sampling the vibrantly flavored Cajun dishes of his Marksville-born grandparents.

Father Bru was raised with a tremendous reverence for where food comes from. His earliest memories spring from the many hours he spent outdoors as a fledgling sportsman.

“It’s a huge part of my life – I love to hunt; I love to fish. When I was barely old enough to hold a fishing pole, Dad had me on a boat,” said Father Bru, who recalls as a toddler breading speckled trout caught in the bayous and lakes surrounding Delacroix Island.

“What you brought home from the outdoors was a huge part of my life – and continues to be to this day,” said Fr. Bru, naming a favorite catch, Sac-a-lait (Crappie), a sweet, freshwater game fish.

The priest also is a veteran deer hunter.

“We do all the butchering ourselves,” Father Bru said. “We don’t buy red meat at the house. Everything is wild game.

“Use everything,” he added. “If you need stock, don’t buy the stuff in a can. Make it yourself. If you have (the ingredients) and you don’t use them, you’re wasting them.”

Seminary influences

Father Bru credits his years at St. Joseph Seminary College and Notre Dame Seminary for exponentially expanding his culinary repertoire.

“The seminary is meant to form men for priesthood, but one of the essential pillars is human formation – to be a well-rounded human being, to be somebody who’s in relation with others, to be a man for all seasons,” he said, adding that that “the things we do around the table” figured prominently into this priestly formation. Fundraising dinners and “seminary nights,” for example, require a seminarian to cook for his superiors and peers, and expose him to food from around the world.

“We had these wonderful nights where the boys were in charge of everything,” Father Bru said. “So to cook for 100 or 150 men for dinner was no problem at all.”

As a seminarian he traveled to countries such as Guatemala, Nicaragua, France, Italy and Canada, taking culinary notes along the way. Even at Notre Dame Seminary, “you’re surrounded by all these wonderful restaurants,” he said. “You learn what you like and you say, ‘I can work with this.’”

Two tips

Father Bru offers two more cooking tips:

• Play with the amount of vegetable seasoning (onions, garlic, celery and bell pepper) to lessen a dish’s need for bottled spices.
• Take the time to prepare a well-rounded meal. “Instead of just doing ‘lasagna and green beans,’ make a nice Caprese salad out of buffalo mozzarella, basil, olive oil, black pepper and salt, and a simple Italian soup like minestrone,” he advised. “And make your own pasta. It’s not hard. Don’t be bashful!”

Crab Cakes

• ½ cup celery, finely chopped
• ½ cup onion, finely chopped
• ½ cup bell pepper, finely chopped
• 6 ounces Louisiana shrimp tails, peeled and deveined (scallops may be used instead of shrimp for those with allergies)
• ¼ cup heavy cream
• 2 cloves fresh garlic, minced
• 1 heaping teaspoon Dijon mustard
• 1 heaping teaspoon Creole mustard
• 1½ teaspoons Louisiana hot sauce
• 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• Creole seasoning, to taste
• 1 pound lump crabmeat
• 1½ cups panko bread crumbs, toasted in open skillet and seasoned with salt and finely crushed black pepper                              
• Salt and finely crushed black pepper

Directions

1. Sauté celery, onion and bell pepper in 2 tablespoons of butter, until onions are clear. Place sautéed vegetables in bowl and cool to room temperature.
2. Purée shrimp in food processor. Add cream. Transfer shrimp purée to bowl holding cooled vegetables. Add minced garlic, mustards, hot sauce, lemon juice and Creole seasoning to shrimp puree and vegetables, stir until well combined.
3. Add lump crabmeat to mixture, folding gently with spatula (be careful not to over mix or break up the lumps of crabmeat). Divide mixture into eight balls. Press firmly into ½-inch-thick patties. Place patties on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Refrigerate for 30 minutes. After the patties have chilled, coat each one in toasted panko.
4. Add a tablespoon of olive oil to a skillet at medium heat. When the pan is heated, place 4 cakes in the skillet. Cook without moving them until golden brown, 3 to 4 minutes. Carefully flip cakes, adding an additional 1 tablespoon of oil to skillet and reducing heat to medium-low. Cook until second side is golden brown, 4 to 6 minutes. Transfer cakes to platter, and repeat steps with second batch of crab cakes after wiping down skillet.

Remoulade Sauce

First half of ingredients:

• ½ cup Creole mustard
• 2 tablespoons ketchup
• 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
• 2 teaspoons horseradish
• 1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic
• 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• 1½ teaspoons paprika
• ½ teaspoon fresh black pepper, finely ground
• ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper

Second half of ingredients:

• ½ cup olive oil
• ¼ cup celery hearts, finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons parsley, finely chopped
• 1½ tablespoons grated onion
• 1 tablespoon green onion, finely chopped
• Louisiana Hot Sauce, to taste
• Salt, to taste

Directions

1. Combine ingredients in first half of recipe. Drizzle olive oil into mixture while whisking in the second half of ingredients. (Don’t be bashful about the hot sauce; this sauce should be spicy and tangy).
2. Cover and chill thoroughly before spooning onto crab cakes.
3. Garnish plate with lemon wedges.
   

Summer in south Louisiana is hot, but it's also delicious. The abundance of fresh produce provides everything you need to gather with friends and family for easy cooking and good eating. From collard and mustard greens, snap peas and summer squash and sweet potatoes, to okra and Creole tomatoes, our Louisiana soil yields vegetables that are versatile, succulent and healthy. And we can't forget the fruit! One of our summer favorites is blueberries!

For the last several years, we have driven out to the country – to Bachman Farms –as a family to pick blueberries. It's always hot, but it's also always fun. And yummy! I confess to tasting a berry or two while I'm picking. And I'm pretty sure Little Z does some tasting too. We always cool down after picking with an ice cold glass of blueberry lemonade.

One of our favorite desserts to make with the blueberries is cobbler. It's a simple recipe and super easy to make, but it is so delicious! We like to serve ours with a scoop of Breyers Natural Vanilla Bean Ice Cream on top.

The recipe below is inspired by Marcelle Bienvenu's recipe for Blackberry Cobbler in Who's Your Mama, Are You Catholic, and Can You Make a Roux? The original recipe calls for 2 cups of sugar, but we prefer a more humble sweetness to our desserts, so we have reduced the sugar to one cup in this recipe... and it all goes in the pastry dough, not the berries. The berries we pick are usually sufficiently sweet. If your berries need a littel help, you could always divide the sugar and sprinkle 1/2 cup over the berries.

INGREDIENTS

• 3 cups of blueberries, rinsed and drained well
• 1 cup of sugar
• 1 cup of all-purpose flour
• 1 egg
• 1/4 pound of melted butter
• 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon of baking soda
• 1 teaspoon of baking powder
• 1 teaspoon of salt

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. Place the blueberries in a 9 x 13-inch baking dish.
3. In a glass mixing bowl, combine the flour, sugar, egg, melted butter, vanilla extract, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Stir to blend well.
4. Spoon the mixture over the blueberries and bake until the pastry sets and is golden brown, about 30 to 40 minutes.

There are so many healthier options than fried/sugar-laden sesame chicken, so the next time you’re craving some Chinese takeout, whip it up yourself!

My Sesame Chicken is oven baked and sugar-free (and might I add- it is quite delicious). This is a family favorite already!

INGREDIENTS

For the Chicken:

• 1.5lb chicken breast, cut into 1-inch cubes
• 60g corn starch
• 60g oat flour
• Salt and pepper
• 100g egg white
• Cooking spray

For the Sauce:

• 1 tsp light olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 2T monkfruit
• 1 tsp cornstarch
• 2T soy or tamari
• 2T rice vinegar
• 1T sesame oil
• 1 tsp sesame seeds

Top with Green onions & sesame seeds

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Preheat oven to 420 F (I put it on convection)
2. Put egg whites in a wide brimmed bowl, and mix cornstarch, oat flour, salt & pepper on a separate plate
3. Spray a broiler pan with cooking spray to avoid sticking
4. Coat each piece of chicken in egg whites and then the dry mixture before putting it on the pan
5. Cook for 20-25 minutes, flipping and respraying pan as needed
6. While the chicken is baking, heat a nonstick pan over medium heat
7. In a small bowl, mix the soy, rice vinegar, monkfruit, sesame oil, and 1 tsp of cornstarch
8. Sauté the garlic the pan with the olive oil until fragrant. Add the sauce and mix until thickened. Lower heat and add 1 tsp of sesame seeds
9. Add the cooked chicken to the sauce and mix until the chicken is coated. Garnish with green onions and more sesame seeds. Enjoy!

(4 servings)

363 Calories per serving

33C/11F/39P

Recipe by Annabelle Young.

Thanks to Alton Brown I have an almost allergic reaction to kitchen gadgets of any sort. But a handful of years ago my parents gave me an Instantpot pressure cooker for Christmas. I had never heard of an Instantpot, so initially, I wasn't terribly excited. But, boy, was I in for a treat!

We use our Instantpot at least twice a week. And I'm sure that there are other things we could use it for... I just haven't taken the time to research it. But one of the weekly uses goes to this carnitas recipe. Everyone, I think, knows about Taco Tuesday, right? Well, we joined in on Taco Tuesday night years ago, but we like to do taco bowls instead of shells. If you are unfamiliar with taco bowls, it's basically some type of meat (beef, pork, chicken, or even shrimp) served taco-style with all the fixings over a bed of rice... in a bowl. But, if you prefer taco shells, you can certainly do that instead.

This carnitas recipe below has become one of our standard weekly recipes for Taco Tuesday. If you don't have an Instantpot, you can still make this recipe. Just cook it low and slow in a crock pot for a few hours, until the meat easily shreds.

Enjoy!

INGREDIENTS

• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 teaspoons chili powder
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 2 pounds pork loin or boneless pork shoulder
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 1 onion cut into large wedges
• 4 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 avocado, halved, pitted, peeled and sliced
• 1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
• Rice, cooked to package directions, OR taco shells of your choosing
• 1 lime, cut into wedges

INSTRUCTIONS

1. In a small bowl, combine the cumin, salt, pepper, chili powder, and oregano. Coat the pork with the spice mixture and rub it in. Then place pork in the bowl of the Instantpot. Add the broth, onion and garlic. Set Instantpot to the Meat setting (high pressure, for 35 minutes), making sure that the pressure valve is closed. After the timer is done, set the valve for a quick release of the pressure.
2. Transfer the pork to a platter or cutting board, and using two forks, shred the pork.
3. Pre-heat the broiler to high. Place the pork on a large rimmed baking sheet. Broil the pork unitl crisp, 3 to 4 minutes. Drizzle the pork with the cooking liquid to moisten.
4. Use the pork for tacos or taco bowls. Make sure to have additional fixings on hand (in addition to the avocado and lime). We like to use sour cream, cheddar cheese, pickled jalapenos, salsa or a Mexican hot sauce. We also like to saute onions and peppers on the side to add to our bowls or tacos.

We are still in the early phase of Carnival season 2022 here in New Orleans. Mardi Gras season officially kicked off on January 6 (or January 2nd this year, thanks to our Catholic "moveable" feasts) and Ash Wednesday is not until March 2nd. This may be one of our lengthiest Mardi Gras seasons.

You may have never been to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. You may not even have pleasant thoughts when you think of Mardi Gras… Maybe the only thing you know about Mardi Gras is what you have seen on MTV and the news channels. For those folks, bad news is good news, so they like to portray the seedier side of things. But that’s not what Mardi Gras is all about. Believe it or not, Mardi Gras is Catholic through and through, and even today it is mainly a family celebration. I want to invite you into the festivities today by sharing with you a little bit about Mardi Gras and the delicious tradition of the King Cake.

A King Cake is essentially a large, round brioche bread/cake with a hole in the middle. It looks like a big donut. Traditionally, a small plastic baby is secretly inserted into the bottom of the cake before it is cut. Brioche is a simple yeast dough that is enriched with eggs and lots of butter. This simple dough yields an airy bread/cake that is soft and chewy.

King Cakes are always round or oval, which is a sign of a crown. It is a symbol of royalty.

Some King Cakes are the basic cinnamon brioche, others are filled with anything from cream cheese, raspberry or strawberry filling, or even a praline type of filling. Some King Cakes are topped with colored icing, others are topped with a white icing and different colored sugar sprinkles. The colors are always the colors of Mardi Gras: purple, green and gold.

But what does all of this mean? Why the reference to royalty? Why the specific colors? And for crying out loud, what’s up with the plastic baby inside the cake?

Excellent questions!

If you go back to the origins of the cake (and there are similar traditions in Mexico, Spain and France… and other places too), the basic symbolism comes from the Catholic celebration of Epiphany, also known as King’s Day. Epiphany, the culmination of the twelve days of Christmas, is traditionally celebrated January 6th. The celebration commemorates the scene in Luke’s Gospel of the Magi from the East (also thought of as wise men or kings) coming to pay homage to the new King… the King of Kings. The celebration of Epiphany officially closes the Christmas season.

But for those of us who live in south Louisiana, the celebration of Epiphany also opens something up… it kicks off for us Mardi Gras season… or Carnival season.

“Carnival” comes from the Latin “carne vale,” which literally means “good-bye meat.” For centuries, Catholics did not eat any meat or meat products during the entire season of Lent. So, on Carnival day, they celebrated by eating up any meat that they could find. In French (including Creole French down here in Louisiana), Carnival is called Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday. It’s always on a Tuesday because Lent always begins on Ash Wednesday.

Down here in south Louisiana, New Orleans in particular, we can come up with just about any reason to throw a party. We like to celebrate. So, we stretch out Carnival. For us, it is not just a day. It’s a season. Between January 6th and midnight Mardi Gras day we celebrate so that we can enter Lent “properly.”

Our modern celebration of the carnival season includes the baking of an estimated 750,000 King Cakes in the New Orleans metro area alone. During Carnival Season, King Cakes are bought or made and brought to offices to share with co-workers and to parties and family gatherings. The modern tradition dictates that whoever gets the baby has to provide the next King Cake. But where did that tradition start?

Well, in New Orleans at least, it began in 1871. The local newspaper, the Times-Picayune, ran this story back in September as it recalled the beginnings of some of our Mardi Gras traditions.

I should mention that this stretches back to the very beginnings of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Some have noted that Mardi Gras actually started in Mobile, AL, not New Orleans. Which is true. Sorta.

Here’s what happened.

The first Carnival krewe in New Orleans was founded in 1857 by former members of the Cowbellian de Rakin Society out of Mobile. The Cowbellian de Rakin Society was founded in Mobile in 1830… 27 years before New Orleans’ first krewe. However, Mobile’s parades were held on New Year’s Eve, not Fat Tuesday. Mobile did not switch to Fat Tuesday until 1866, 9 years after Mardi Gras was rolling in New Orleans.

Very interesting.

So what about the colors? Why the purple, green and gold as the official colors of Mardi Gras?

Purple represents justice, green stands for faith, and gold stands for power. These colors were chosen by Rex (which means King) for his first parade in 1872. People must have liked the look of those colors together, because they stuck. They are now known as the Mardi Gras colors.

And the plastic baby?

Well, historically, the baby represents Jesus. Before plastic, folks would use a dried bean (like a fava bean) in the cake. Remember, the King Cake was originally part of the celebration of “King’s Day” or the Solemnity of the Epiphany, recalling the Magi’s search for the Baby Jesus. Today, getting the baby usually means that you are responsible for bringing the next King Cake to the next gathering.

Every year during Mardi Gras season, I used to be the one in the kitchen making the King Cakes, but the last couple of years, my oldest daughter Annabelle has taken the helm. This year, in fact, she is taking orders for our famous King Cakes, and business is booming. She's been making so many of them that she has discovered ways to improve the recipe. So it is with great joy that I am able to share with you Annabelle's new and improved recipe for our King Cake.

Enjoy!

UPDATED Catholic Foodie King Cake Recipe

Updated by Annabelle Young

INGREDIENTS

• 2 packets of active dry yeast (4 ½ teaspoons)
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 2 sticks of butter, melted (I use 1 whole Kerrygold), about 110 F
• 1 cup of warm milk, about 110 F
• 5 large egg yolks, room temperature
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
• Zest of one lemon
• 4 ½ cups of all-purpose flour (King Arthur)
• 1-2 teaspoons oil (light olive oil)
• 3 8oz blocks of cream cheese, room temperature
• 2 cups confectioner’s sugar
• 1 ½ sticks of regular butter
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1-2 tablespoons milk
• 1 plastic king cake baby or pecan half
• White dusting sugar
• Purple, green, and yellow food coloring

METHOD

For The Dough

1. Using a spoon, combine the yeast and the granulated sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook. If you don’t have a stand mixer, don’t worry, you can do the same thing by hand in a large mixing bowl.
2. Mix melted butter and warm milk in a bowl, making sure the temperature is about 110 F.
3. Add the milk and butter mixture to the stand mixer and mix with a spoon for 1 minute.
4. Add the egg yolks and mix for another minute.
5. Add the salt, nutmeg, and lemon zest and mix until well-combined.
6. Add the flour and beat with the electric mixer until everything is incorporated. Increase the speed to high and beat until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl and forms a ball (or starts to climb up the dough hook).
7. Coat your hands and a large glass bowl with olive oil and remove the dough from the bowl. Using your hands, form the dough into a smooth ball.
8. Place the dough in the bowl, rolling it around to coat it on all sides with oil. Tightly cover the bowl with plastic wrap and a clean kitchen towel and set aside in a warm, draft-free place (I use the microwave) for 2 hours minimum. It can rise for as long as 5 hours. You want the dough to double in size.

For The Filling

1. In a large mixing bowl, combine the cream cheese and 1/2 cup of confectioner’s sugar. Blend using a fork or an electric mixer on medium speed. Scrape the sides and beat again. Set aside.

After The Dough Has Doubled In Size

1. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Using a rolling pin, roll it out into a large oval shape about 30 inches long and 6-8 inches wide.
2. Take the cream cheese filling and spread it out lengthwise over the bottom half of the dough.
3. Flip the top half of the dough over the filling and seal the edges with your fingers, pinching the dough together.
4. Fold the pinched edges on the dough under so that the seam is not showing.
5. Shape the dough into a cylinder and place it on a baking sheet (I use a round pizza stone) seam side toward the center. Shape it into a ring and pinch the ends together, doing your best so that there’s no visible seam.
6. Cover the ring with a clean kitchen towel and set aside in a warm, draft-free place. Let the dough rise until doubled in size (about 45 minutes).
7. Preheat oven to 350 F.
8. Once the cake has doubled in size, remove the towel, and brush the surface of the cake with 2 tablespoons of milk.
9. Place cake in oven and bake 25 to 30 minutes, until it is golden brown.
10. Remove from the oven and place the cake on a wire rack so that it can cool completely.
11. When it is completely cooled, insert the plastic baby, or pecan half, from the bottom of the cake.

For The Icing

1. Beat the butter in a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment on medium-high speed until fluffy.
2. Add the vanilla extract and 1 tablespoon of milk.
3. Sift 1 ½ cups of confectioner’s sugar into the bowl and beat until smooth.
4. Scrape the sides of the bowl and beat again. Add more milk or sugar if necessary.
5. Once cooled, spread the icing on the cake using the back of a spoon or a spatula.
6. Pour some dusting sugar into 3 separate plastic bags. Using food coloring, dye them purple, green, and yellow.
7. Alternate the three colors until you have filled the whole cake.

There's a lot that is not right in our world. There's a lot that is messy, broken, ugly. None of us has to look far to see that this is true. And yet we have this promise... a promise that began in the Garden and was foretold by the prophets of Israel: the Holy One is coming, the Savior, the Redeemer, and he will make all things right.

Sometimes it can be hard to believe that promise. It's easy to look at the world today, at the Church today, at my life today, and to see only the messy, the broken, and the ugly. And often what is held up for us as a solution, as a medicine, as a "fix" against the messy, the broken, and the ugly is a preemptive artificial angelism, a weak attempt to paint over the humanity that we all bear, a thin and ineffective attempt to make it so that we won't... hurt. But that doesn't work. It has never worked. I think the only substantial and effective solution is to take a deep dive into the incarnation... into reality.

I keep thinking back to Francis of Assisi, to his realism, to this humble poor man of Assisi who radically impacted the Church and the world. Francis embodied the suffering Christ. He bore in his body the wounds of Christ. And Francis brought the poor and the humble wealthy to the poor Christ in the creche, a tradition he started.

Imagine the scene, that first Christmas night... Mary and Joseph... no room in the inn. And they sought shelter in a stable, a cave, with the animals. Mary, Our Lady, the Mother of God, gave birth in a filthy place that smelled of animals and all that animals bring. This is not a pretty image on a Christmas card. It's shocking. The King of the Universe becomes a dependent baby and is born into poverty in a place that most of us would categorize as filthy. Most of us think of the cute donkeys, the cow, the sheep... I think of the gnats, the mosquitos, the spiders. The long travel, which was forced upon them from a tyrannical ruler, the exhaustion, the confusion and immediacy that comes with childbirth, especially if there is no room for the birth to happen. I think of the pain, the heartache. This is what Christ enters into... that first time over 2000 years ago, and again today in my life and yours.

The birth of Christ was not cute. He arrived as a warrior... under the radar, yes –Silent Night and all – but, still, a warrior. And once he arrived, the days of Satan's reign were numbered. Universally, but also in my life and yours.

At the same time, I cannot ignore the poetry of the whole scene. God becomes man in Bethlehem, a city whose name means House of Bread. The Baby God is laid in a manger, a feed trough. It is a sign, a symbol and so much more. He has come as a warrior. He has come to set us free. And he has also come to be our food. This same baby about 30 years or so later will tell us that he is the Bread of Life and that if we do not eat his flesh and drink his blood then we will have no life in us. He said he came to bring us life, and life to the full. He himself has become our food. All of this is too marvelous for me. It's more than I can take in. Thankfully, Christmas is a season, and I can sit with this for a couple of weeks at least. But for now, on this eve of Christ's birth, I humbly offer you this poem I wrote recently as I anticipated this celebration of Christmas. And, I wish you from my heart a very Merry Christmas!

ONE OF US
For Gerard Manley Hopkins

Shrouded Mystery come down from above
The epiclesis of the Father’s love
Holy Spirit overshadowing her;
Bright wings rising as blazing plumes of Myrrh.

Still a child yet she’s dignity defined
Full of grace and favor, God’s love enshrined.
Humbly to the angel’s invitation
Her fiat she offers for all creation.

For nine months he grew in her sacred womb,
Adored – magnified – with a heart abloom
With gratitude to God who himself thrusts,
Condescending to become one of us.

Hidden in obscurity and silence,
In unknown, unbidden, magnificence,
Jesus, nestled in straw – sweet poverty! –
Reveals and veils his sublime mystery.

A simple child, a babe. Nothing special
To make him stand out. No crown celestial,
No scepter of power. Only utter
Dependence on his father and mother.

God is no longer far up in heaven
Rather has returned as to the garden
To walk and talk with us in his fullness.
In Jesus, God has become one of us.

Christmastime gift-giving among friends is always a treat. Over the years, we've made and given cookies, brownies, spiced nuts, and even hummus! This hot chocolate mix is simple to make and can be stored in jars for up to two months. And if you're extra creative, you can decorate the jars too!

The addition of nonfat dry milk powder and cornstarch yields a deeply chocolaty drink that isn't overly rich. This is a hot chocolate that you can sip on and enjoy without feeling like you maybe overdid it.

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup (7 ounces) sugar
• 6 ounces unsweetened chocolate , chopped fine
• 1 cup (3 ounces) unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/2 cup (1 1/2 ounces) nonfat dry milk powder
• 5 teaspoons cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt

INSTRUCTIONS

Process all ingredients in food processor until ground to powder, 30 to 60 seconds. Transfer to jars.

NOTES

• Store in canning jars.
• Keeps for two months.
• Serves 12, makes 3 cups. Can easily half or double the recipe.
• To make a cup of hot chocolate to drink, simply heat 1 cup of milk in saucepan over medium heat until it is steaming, then whisk in 1/4 cup of mix and continue to heat, whisking constantly, until the hot chocolate is simmering… about 2 to 3 minutes. Serve and enjoy!

Original recipe can be found at CooksIllustrated.com.

I don't remember why or how we came across these delightful little cookies, but they have now become a family favorite. The fresh rosemary really makes these pop! Not only are they easy to make and delicious to eat, but they make a great gift to share at Christmas time.

Note that you can scale the recipe up or down as long you maintain the butter to flour ratio (1 stick of butter per cup of flour). You can also add other ingredients... nuts, dried fruit, spices. Have fun and enjoy!

INGREDIENTS

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• ⅔ cup granulated sugar
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
• 1 teaspoon plus 1 pinch kosher salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted cold butter, cut into 1-inch chunks
• 1 to 2 teaspoons rosemary, and additional ingredients like nuts, dried fruit or spices, if you so choose (optional)

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Heat oven to 325 degrees. In a food processor, pulse together flour, sugar, rosemary and salt. Add butter, and honey if desired, and pulse to fine crumbs. Pulse a few more times until some crumbs start to come together, but don't overprocess. Dough should not be smooth.
2. Press dough into an ungreased 8- or 9-inch-square baking pan or 9-inch pie pan. Prick dough all over with a fork. Bake until golden brown, 35 to 40 minutes for 9-inch pan, 45 to 50 minutes for 8-inch. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Cut into squares, bars or wedges while still warm.

Original recipe found here.

Located on the West Bank of Jefferson Parish on Highway 90 West about 4 1/2 miles from the Huey P. Long Bridge, Mosca's – an iconic New Orleans establishment – has been serving up family-style Italian dishes since 1946. One of its most revered dishes is Oysters Mosca.

New Orleans is a city known for highlighting the humble oyster. Not only will you find oysters-on-the-half-shell available throughout the city, but famous oyster dishes like Antoine's Oyster Rockefeller and Arnaud's Oyster Bienville – and even Drago's famous Char-Grilled Oysters – are no longer bound to their establishments of origin. Rather, you will find them on menus in restaurants peppered across New Orleans and even beyond.

Oysters Mosca are much simpler to prepare than Rockefeller and Bienville. Mosca's menu describes Oysters Mosca as "Fresh whole oysters with Mosca's special Italian seasoning, topped with bread crumbs and baked." Marcelle Bienvenu and Judy Walker included Oysters Mosca in their 2008 cookbook Cooking Up a Storm. In that recipe, they list ingredients that are not included the short description on Mosca's menu, such as butter, olive oil, chopped green onions and parsley, minced garlic, Parmesan cheese, salt, pepper, cayenne, and dried basil and oregano. The recipe I include below is yet another variation, published by Judy Walker on Nola.com (first in 2010, and then updated in 2019). It is this variation that we made last night and that you will find photographed above.

It's holiday time, which is a perfect time for oysters. Make you some. And, like Marcelle says, don't forget the french bread!

INGREDIENTS

• 2 dozen freshly shucked oysters, patted dry
• 1/2 stick butter
• 2 tablespoons minced shallots
• 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 8 (canned) artichoke hearts, drained, chopped
• Salt and cayenne pepper
• 1/2 cup Italian-style bread crumbs
• 1/4 cup (or more) freshly grated Parmesan cheese

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
2. Arrange the oysters in a shallow baking dish in one layer. Heat the butter in a skillet on medium heat. Add the shallots and cook, stirring until just soft, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the lemon juice, and season with salt and pepper. Pour the mixture over the oysters.
3. Scatter the chopped artichokes over the oysters, and sprinkle with the bread crumbs and Parmesan cheese. Bake until heated through, 15 to 20 minutes. Serve hot.

On Tuesday night, New Orleans journalist Brett Anderson presented the fall lecture for the College of Nursing and Health at Loyola University New Orleans. The college has a new tagline – Health in Mind, Body, and Spirit – and they invited New York Times food correspondent Brett Anderson to help reflect on the implications of the tagline, specifically on the complexities of restaurants and food, what they might say about human wholeness, and what social justice implications he might draw from his work.

Though originally from Minnesota, Brett Anderson made New Orleans his home over 20 years ago, and he has since established himself as an authoritative journalist in the restaurant and food industry of the city.

Here’s his bio from the College’s event page:

Brett Anderson is a food correspondent for The New York Times. He joined the Times in 2019 after serving as restaurant critic and features writer for The Times-Picayune in New Orleans for nearly 20 years. He has won three James Beard Awards, including the Jonathan Gold Local Voice Award, and was a member of the Picayune staff awarded a Pulitzer Prize for Public Service for its coverage of Hurricane Katrina. He was a Nieman Fellow at Harvard University in 2013, and his groundbreaking reporting on sexual harassment in the restaurant industry has garnered numerous accolades, including being named Eater’s Reporter of the Year in 2017. He was on the team awarded the Scripps Howard Edward J. Meeman Award for environmental reporting for his work covering the BP oil spill in 2010, and he received the Excellence in Journalism Award from the Renewable Natural Resources Foundation for “Louisiana Loses Its Boot,” a longform story about the state’s disappearing coastline. His work has appeared in newyorker.com, Travel & Leisure, Oxford American, Gourmet and the Washington Post; and his stories have appeared in eight editions of the anthologies Best Food Writing and in six of Cornbread Nation. He began his career writing about music, among other topics, for alternative weekly newspapers in Minneapolis and Washington, DC, both edited by his mentor, David Carr.

Mr. Anderson’s lecture was entitled “Gravy Runs through It: The Mystique, Mistakes & Magic of New Orleans Restaurants,” and I found it fascinating on many fronts. I can’t share all of what I would like to share today, but I will give you a little taste.

But first, I have tell you a little backstory. It tickles me how things tie together in life, often things that, on the surface, don’t seem to go together. In this case, I’m referring to biblical theology and the restaurant industry.

A little over a week ago, as we prepared to celebrate the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, I watched a reflection by Dr. Brant Pitre on the gospel reading for that Sunday: Mark 12:38-44. It’s the story of The Widow’s Mite, but Jesus prefaces that story with an indictment against the scribes, saying that they “devour widows' houses and for a pretense make long prayers.” As Dr. Pitre commented on this passage, he explained how the scribes were seen at that time, and almost as an aside, he said, “So what [Jesus is] doing here is he's taking basically some of the most wealthy and elite members of Jewish society, who back then actually, unlike in our society where we idolize musicians or sports stars, athletes and that kind of thing, because that’s what we value, we value entertainment. In First Century Judaism, because they valued the Torah, they valued the law, they valued worship, they valued their religion, then the scribe, believe it or not, scholars, were highly revered figures within Jewish society, right. They were among the elite, they were revered.”

What caught my ear, and what I kept going back to… for over a week, was this part: “…unlike in our society where we idolize musicians or sports stars, athletes and that kind of thing, because that’s what we value, we value entertainment.”

Ouch.

But that is so true. Look at where our money goes. It goes toward what we value. And after food and shelter, it looks like the bulk of our money (at least in the West) goes to entertainment in some form or another.

Now, back to Tuesday night and Mr. Anderson’s insightful lecture. He framed his remarks within segments of his journalism career in New Orleans… stretches of time and the major events that occurred therein. 9/11. Pre-Katrina, post-Katrina. Pre-social media, and post. Pre-#MeToo, and post. Lots of stories. Lots of significance. He ended with the current COVID era and one particularly personal news story that, really, unfolded right there in that room. But I’ll save that till the end.

Within the framework of his remarks, he brought up a number of social justice issues at play in the restaurant industry: abusive managers, racial and sexual harassment, and the economic disparity between the “front of the house” and the “back of the house” – which simply refers to how restaurant work is typically segregated, with wait staff and hosts/hostesses in the front of the house and kitchen and clean up in the back of the house. Waiters and waitresses have the opportunity to earn much more through tips than do cooks and dish washers who are hourly employees.

But the issue that jumped out to me the most had to do with the culture of celebrity chefs and the abuse that typically follows in its wake. The dynamic of “celebrity chefdom” extends farther than one would think on the surface. Not only can a celebrity mistreat those who are “below” him or her, but even among the “lower class,” the employees, there can be a reluctance to report abuse because the whole structure, and all of the employees, are riding on the coattails of the talented one, the celebrity. To report an abusive celebrity would, therefore, negatively impact one’s fellow employees and, presumably, friends.

Still, given all the injustice that happens in restaurants, the fact is, Mr. Anderson noted, that we will still eat out. Dining out, after all, has become entertainment.

There’s that word again. Two disparate things connect right here in that word… entertainment. And, the sad truth is that it’s our disordered valuation of entertainment that brings about – that allows to happen – the abuse that scandalizes us. Here, I think, is where we would really find the answer to the question regarding the College’s new tagline and its implications… regarding the complexities of restaurants and food, and what they might say about human wholeness. The casual diner cannot be exonerated in this question of social justice, especially in a culture where he – you, me – prizes entertainment above all else.

A miserable night this would have made, if Mr. Anderson had stopped there. But, he had more for us. A modest solution. A way of finding humanity in all of this… our own, and that of those who work in restaurants.

Toward the end of his lecture, Mr. Anderson spoke of JoAnn Clevenger and her iconic Upperline restaurant. Ms. Clevenger happened to be seated Tuesday night about 5 feet in front of me. Mr. Anderson concluded his lecture with her story, noting that he had just submitted his article about the closing of Upperline an hour before the lecture began. That article, incidentally, was published yesterday in the New York Times. I humbly recommend it to you. Mr. Anderson includes details about Upperline, about Ms. Clevenger, that will certainly inspire you.

Upperline has graced New Orleans for nearly 40 years. JoAnn Clevenger was no chef. And she was no celebrity. At least not in the way that Emeril and Prudhomme and Besh were. She was simply the hostess. But, as it turns out, being the hostess was everything. She shared with Mr. Anderson, and he with us, the concept that she held of the “benevolent circle.” Anderson writes, “She explained what attracted her to hospitality when she worked on Bourbon Street in the 1960s and ‘70s. ‘I remembered things about the customers and the bartenders and the other people that worked on the street,’ she said. ‘And they loved that, and that made me feel good that I made them feel good. It’s a benevolent circle.’” Again, there are stories in that article that you need to read. Read it.

COVID has taken a toll on all of us. And, in a way, it might seem insensitive to be saddened by a business closing due to it. After all, so many people have lost so much more… family, friends. And yet, Upperline, and its 82 year old hostess, was a ray of sunshine in the city of New Orleans. It not only touched the lives of countless people, but Ms. Clevenger and her benevolent circle potentially helped those countless people to touch countless more.

In the end, as Mr. Anderson adequately noted, the only thing – the best thing – we can do to counter the social injustice we encounter is to meet it with curiosity and human connection. Be curious, he urged us. Talk to your waiter or waitress. Ask them if they like the restaurant, if they like working there. Get to know them. Be human.

When Char and I got married, we each brought a favorite cookbook into the marriage. Char brought Louisiana Real & Rustic by Emeril Lagasse, and I brought Who's Your Mama, Are You Catholic, and Can You Make a Roux? by Marcelle Bienvenu. But here's the thing... Marcelle co-wrote Louisiana Real & Rustic with Emeril. We love that lady. And we have cooked many dishes out of those cookbooks over the years.

We always reach for Louisiana Real & Rustic as Thanksgiving approaches. Our favorite turkey recipe comes from that book. It was a recipe that Marcelle learned from her Aunt Git. It's a pepper-stuffed turkey, and I guarantee it's the juiciest turkey you'll ever cook.

One of our favorite sides comes from the same cookbook: Wild Pecan Rice Dressing. The original recipe calls for a specific brand of rice, Konriko Brand, which comes out of New Iberia, LA. If you can get it, it's worth it. The way that rice is milled produces a nutty flavor to the end product. But if you can't find it, don't sweat it. We've made it with plain brown rice a few times and it still turns out delicious.

INGREDIENTS

• 1 tablespoon butter (I've also used bacon grease)
• 1/4 cup chopped onions
• 1/4 cup chopped celery
• 1 1/4 teaspoons salt
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne
• 1/2 cup pecan pieces
• 1 unpeeled Granny Smith apple, cored and chopped (about 1 1/2 cups)
• 1 package (7 ounces) Konriko Wild Pecan Rice (I've also used regular brown rice)
• 2 cups water
• 1/2 pound bacon, chopped, crispy-fried, and drained
• 1 cup chopped boiled ham (I sometimes leave this out)
• 1/2 cup chopped green onions
• 3 tablespoons chopped parsley

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Heat the butter in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the onions, celery, salt, and cayenne. Saute for 3 to 4 minutes, or until slightly wilted. Add the pecans and cook for about 4 minutes. Add the apple and the rice and stir for 1 minute. Add the water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium, cover, and simmer for about 20 minutes.
2. Remove from the heat. Add the bacon, ham, green onions, and parsley and stir to mix well.
3. Let sit for about 3 minutes before serving.

Yesterday my wife Char and I celebrated our 23rd wedding anniversary. Or, to be more accurate, yesterday was our anniversary, but we’ve been celebrating for several days.

It started on Thursday evening when we attended a dinner with friends. The dinner had nothing to do with our anniversary. We just happened to be invited, and felt happy to be with friends. And, unbeknownst to them, that dinner kicked off the anniversary celebrations for us.

Friday night we got to steal away for a dinner date, just the two of us, at Pardo’s in Mandeville, LA. We enjoyed a fabulous dinner. Our waiter Sam was top-notch... attentive, yet unobtrusive. No detail escaped him. And he allowed us to linger at the table. I think we were there about 2.5 hours. Courses came at just the right intervals, and each one was better than the previous. We ordered Oyster Rockefeller Soup and the Carpaccio as appetizers, and we split the Iceberg Wedge Salad. Char ordered the Pan Seared Gulf Fish for her entree, and I ordered the Double Cut Pork Chop. You can see some photos below. Incidentally, we both highly recommend Pardo's. Our dinner ended with a surprise dessert [Thank you, Sam and Pardo's!]... and fireworks!

Saturday we spent the day at the Three Rivers Art Festival in Covington, LA, which is one of our favorite events each year. It was just me, Char and Zelie. And we had so much fun! Again, see pics below... especially Zelie who wore her dinosaur hat from about 8:00 AM to about 6:00 PM and brought so much joy to everyone she met!

Sunday, our actual anniversary, was yet another adventure. We drove to St. Francisville to join the good folks of St. Sharbel Maronite Mission of Louisiana for a hike, lunch, some talks on the history of faith in the Felicianas (by Fr. Brad Doyle) and the history of the Maronite Catholic Church (by Fr. Alex Harb), followed by a Maronite liturgy. Beautiful. A wonderful way to spend our anniversary. Special thanks to Fr. Brad and Our Lady of Mount Carmel Catholic Church for hosting us.

Twenty-three years is nothing to sneeze at. During these twenty-three years, we've seen friends divorce. We've seen friends diagnosed with major life-changing health issues. We have lost friends in death. And we are still here. And we are very grateful to still be here, and to be together. But these twenty-three years have not been easy.

This year I have found myself to be a bit more reflective than usual. Maybe it's the impact of the pandemic, and the fact that the world we all knew so well has shifted so much in such a short period of time. Maybe it's the fragility of it all, having lost close friends and family this past year. The remembrance of death can be such a good thing... Memento Mori and all. It helps us to keep focused on the things that really matter.

I've been thinking about where we are –Char and I– and where we've been these last twenty-three years. Char and I routinely have conversations about growth and change and God and how where we are today is never what we envisioned. For years now – going back probably to the very beginning when I was still teaching high school and doing youth ministry – I've joked that entering into marriage is being matriculated into the School of Love. A joke, yes, but it is also the truth. That's the endgame. Love. God's work in us is to love us and to make us capable of love. And real, true, love is not easy. It looks like the crucifixion. Like Mother Teresa tending to the dying in the streets of Kolkata. Like Char staying up all night watching every breath of one of our children sick with a respiratory illness. It looks like me, when I surrender to God's grace, and actually allow just a little bit more of my selfishness to be put to death. It's not fun. But love is more than fun. It makes us like God, like Jesus.

I have a million thoughts going through my head. So much that I want to share with you... about beauty and faith and poetry and how all of our plans are really nothing, and how there are layers behind layers behind layers in my life and in yours... and God knows every one of them. But all of that will have to wait. For now, I need to honor my wife who asked me to share this with you. The other night I had a hard time falling asleep, which is very unusual. I laid in bed for about an hour before finally falling asleep. While I laid there, I prayed, and I thought about our anniversary. It occurred to me that there was a connection between 23 years and Psalm 23. The Lord has been with us, but we haven't always seen it. Many times we have refused to see it. But he doesn't give up. And as we consent to die to ourselves, something... beautiful happens. In the end, our lives with God are more poetry than the too-small plans we make.

And that was the inspiration for this poem that I wrote for Char. And she has asked me to share it with you. Enjoy.

23

The Lord is our Shepherd
and we have not wanted…
though we have been convinced otherwise,
–many times–
seeing our years of want,
our years of struggle and tears,
our years of being
with each other, but not
seeing each other.
How could we, exiled as we were
from our own hearts?

Green pastures and still waters
He provided. But we
could not see it.
Blind were we,
or at least I was.

Moment by moment
He laid out for us
the finest banquet,
the finest wheat,
atop the marble altar,
within the present moment.
And mercies he made
come alive for us
anew every morning.
But I was blind,
I was blind.
Were you?

Yet with the Lord there is mercy
and fullness of redemption.
So grateful am I
for His rod and His staff,
His comfort and correction,
His sweetness that tasted so often
like bitter metal,
the crucible of suffering,
the slow dripping death of self
that must come
for each of us,
welcomed or not.

It has been this death, this dying,
this bone deep knowledge of
my own nothingness that
has peeled back the scales
so that I may see.
It is the sweetness
of this dying that
has broken the yolk
of falsehoods in me,
gently bringing me back
to myself, to Him, to you.

Surely his goodness and mercy
have followed us,
have led us these 23 years.
And surely we shall dwell
in the House of the Lord
for 23 more,
for 23 more.