Last weekend, I watched three episodes of The Lost Kitchen. In a row. Ordinarily, I don’t watch Tv during the day, but the past few weeks haven’t been what I’d call “ordinary.” In the Northwoods, we’ve been caught in a deep-freeze that has kept everyone but the snowmobilers (hearty folk who know how to layer) huddled up by the fireplace. And when you add a broken arm to the Polar Vortex, your options are, well, a bit limited!

But that’s another story. . .

I’d read about The Lost Kitchen in a magazine, so when a friend invited me over to watch a show that follows the day-to-day workings of the restaurant and the women who work there, I was in😊 If you’ve never heard of The Lost Kitchen, it’s located in Maine and only takes reservations through the mail. Thousands of people from all over the world send postcards, hoping they will be chosen for a one-of-a-kind dining experience.

And that’s why I got totally hooked on the show.

Because as amazing as the menu is (lobster chowder, butter cake topped with a poached pear, appetizers and salads that look like edible works of art) it’s the feeling, not just the food, that makes this restaurant so special.

You can see it on the people’s faces. Hear it in their laughter. In a few short hours, strangers from all walks of life turn into friends.

I think that’s why 2020 was especially difficult. Like everyone else, I had no idea that spending time with family and friends—something I admit I’d taken for granted—would be put on hold. And not the waiting-for-a-representative-from-Company X frustration that we’ve all experienced from time to time. No, this felt more like the painful-yearning-for-normal-while-you-wait-for-a-broken-bone-to-heal kind of hold. The kind that can drain your hope and steal your joy if you let it take root.

But in the waiting, I was writing The Gathering Table, a story about a personal chef who is forced to make some changes when her life takes an unexpected turn (God’s timing always makes me smile). Separated from my people, it made me more aware of how precious and sweet those “table” moments can be. How we’re created for community. The food is only a small part of that. It’s more about sharing stories and creating memories. Even if those memories include ZOOM tea parties with my granddaughters and campfire chili with friends.

It’s about thanking the One who nourishes us, body and soul, no matter what the day brings.

PS: This is our second attempt at sourdough bread. Not very pretty, but delicious! The first time we made a loaf, we were so anxious to try it that we forgot to take a picture 😊