Maggie’s Kitchen – August 05
FROM MAGGIE’S KITCHEN
Many, many aeons ago, when my husband was first priested, he had a very large and relatively isolated parish on the southwest coast of Newfoundland. Now priests’ families can tell you that however hospitable the parishioners may be, they don’t exactly incorporate the “Reverend” and his household into their social life. So you will understand why we prayed to the Lord that He would send us visitors. He did. We had (literally) non-stop visitors for a solid year, of all sorts and conditions, after which we ceased being concerned about isolation. But when the bishop was scheduled to make his annual visitation (which necessarily included more than one night’s accommodation in the rectory), we were always absolutely delighted at the prospect, partly because we really liked him, and partly because it was a welcome social occasion. I couldn’t understand the other clergy wives, whose comments before such visitations were invariably prefaced with, “After we’re clear of the bishop. . .” I never felt that way — that is, until we had bishops who were problematical.
With the visits to New Brunswick of Bishop Mercer, however, our earlier enthusiasm was rekindled. And now that Bishop Wilkinson is to be with us this coming Wednesday, I’m acting again almost as if the Lord Himself were returning, cooking and cleaning and weeding and worrying about whether the hall will be suitably filled with guests.
And then I remember that when our Lord took Peter and James and John to the mount of His Transfiguration and Moses and Elijah appeared with Him, these disciples, far from being riveted by the wonder of the occasion, fell asleep. Peter did manage some not very insightful comments, which only demonstrated further how much the significance of the vision was lost on him. The Feast of the Transfiguration has always been for me one of the profound moments of the calendar year, and yet I know that, had I been there, my response would have been even less to the point than St. Peter’s. Still, Christ bore with him, and bears with us, and loves us not because of our brilliance but despite our limitations.
So when the Bishop finds me more of a Martha than a Mary, fretting over this and that, I hope he shares in our Lord’s compassionate understanding. Meanwhile, it occurs to me that my efforts at sprucing up the place really should be in expectation of our Lord’s visitation, and not just of the Bishop’s. After all, we customarily set the extra place at the table for the Unseen Guest. Will He arrive in the person of a bishop, or of one of the hopeless drunks we have known over the years? I don’t expect that He will reveal Himself to us in robes of glistering white, as He did to His disciples. Nor should that matter, only that we should be ready to welcome Him when He comes. Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. (Rev 3:20).
Peter’s reference to the booths leads us to think that the Transfiguration of our Lord took place at the time of the Jewish Feast of Booths (Succoth). Traditional among Eastern European Jews for Succoth are cabbage rolls called holishkes. According to Marlena Spieler, author of Jewish Cooking, “the stuffing symbolizes abundance”. Prepare them for the Feast of the Transfiguration (August 6) to honour the Unseen Guest, remembering that He who is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets came that [you] might have life, and have it abundantly. (Jn 10:10).
HOLISHKES
Make a filling of 1 kg ground beef, a scant half-cup of long grain rice, 2 chopped onions, half a dozen chopped garlic cloves, 1 tsp salt, and 2 eggs beaten with 3 Tbsp water. Chill. Core a whole cabbage. Immerse in simmering water for a couple of minutes, then remove from water and carefully peel off and drain outer leaves. Repeat until all leaves are separated and drained. Form the filling into ovals the size of small lemons and wrap each in a cabbage leaf (or two overlapped small leaves, if necessary). Layer the cabbage rolls with 2 sliced onions in a large ovenproof dish, tucking excess cabbage leaves around the sides. Pour over them a large (28-ounce) can chopped tomatoes, and sprinkle with 3 Tbsp demerara (raw) sugar, 3 Tbsp white wine or cider vinegar (or lemon juice), a pinch of cinnamon, and salt and pepper to taste. Cover and bake 2 hours at 300 degrees, basting two or three times with the juices. Then uncover and bake another 30-60 minutes to thicken the sauce and lightly brown the tops of the rolls. Serve hot with lemon wedges — to guests!