Bread and Wine: Breakfast Quinoa

Say it with me: KEEN-WA

Not: KWIN-OA (as some of us very white people might possibly have said in the past)

Quinoa was something to get used to in our family. It's rather exotic sounding and so...um...earthy? Is earthy the right term? But like most earthy-tasting grains, it's helped greatly by the addition of root vegetables and some substantial sweet, like dried cranberries or cherries. The first time I made it I added onions, celery, and mushrooms softened in butter, followed by a small handful of cranberries. Salt and pepper. Next to roast chicken it was like Thanksgiving on a plate. It's definitely become a great alternative for us when we're a little world weary of rice or pasta.

"Breakfast Quinoa" comes at the end of "Tea and Pajamas," a chapter in Bread and Wine where Shauna Niequist reflects on soul hunger and the need for rest and rhythm. This chapter came up during what was a rather harried week for me so this meditation on soul-care is therefore as timely as it is timeless. Let's talk about quinoa first, then move on to Niequist's reflections.

Y'all hungry? Let's eat.

Breakfast Quinoa
I've mentioned before that I don't feel quite right about publishing Niequist's recipes here (buy the book, everybody!), but for the sake of discussion I've realized it probably makes a bit more sense to at least name the ingredients so that there's a context for my chats. Here we go:

Ingredients: Quinoa, apple sausage, onion, egg, olive oil

When it comes to hot breakfasts, I'm all about it, except for the time involved. On weekday mornings I can usually be found digging out cheese and peanut butter from the fridge and peeling bananas or making the occasional French toast or waffles on the weekend.

What's nice about this recipe is how stupid quick it is and, lovely of lovelies, how refrigeratable! It cooks and seasons up like a champ and still tastes the same with a reheat. Niequist recommends topping with a fried egg, which always cooks more quickly than I think it will, and bam! nutritious, filling breakfast food.

Let's talk about chicken apple sausage. Who knew about this and didn't tell me? It tastes wonderful, a little like Christmas (apples and meat always make me think of Christmas), and it's so healthful-- much lower in fat than pork and high in protein. I used the Aidells brand sausage which doesn't have any nitrates or artificial preservatives so I could feel morally superior when I ate it.

Normally my system gets a little weird when I eat foods that are more for lunch or dinner at breakfast--like sausage, like onion-- and eggs don't always agree with me. But due to how light this meal is, it's comforting to eat and very sustaining, perfect with a glass of orange juice or mug of black coffee.

And it's pretty. Take that, peanut butter toast!

The Chapter
Okay, let's be honest here. Who's hungry?

Not just because I just described a hot, comforting breakfast, but really, who's hungry? and what are you hungry for?

A pan of last night's brownies? A package of gummi bears? A glass (or glasses) of whine, I mean, wine?

What about quiet, sleep, or peace?

Because let's not forget, our hunger can be for so much more than food.

I needed this chapter very much this week in particular, but it's a topic I'm meditating on for far longer. Niequist writes about hunger as an indicator of her own exhaustion and frayed edges and how she starts to need food, more than we were ever created to need food, when her physical, spiritual, and emotional reserves are depleted.

She talks about finding herself late in the season of a long stretch of busyness, snarfing down a club sandwich like an addict:

"I sat on the carpet outside our hotel room and a club sandwich and French fries and drank a glass of Chardonnay. I knew in some wordless way that I needed that sandwich more than a person should need a sandwich. I wanted, in the most obvious way, rest and care and nourishment, a sense of comfort and peace. And all I knew to do was hold on to that sandwich like it was going to run away from me."

I can relate. I read this passage on a day I'd gulped down a quarter pan of brownies with huge mugs of coffee just to make it through another day of mothering. A bag of gummi bears might as well have been a measure of crack the way I stuffed my mouth before getting the kids up from naps.

Niequist reflects, "What I'm finding is that when I'm hungry, lots of times what I really want more than food is an external voice to say, 'You've done enough. It's OK to be tired. You can take a break. I'll take care of you. I see how hard you're trying."

This particular passage should be shouted from the rooftops to a world of diets and diet fads and weight watchers and weight loss experts. Our food, our diets, our cravings, are an indicator of so much more than merely a tendency to eat too much (or too little) food.

Niequist goes on to name the spiritual craving of her--and our--hearts: for rest, for care, for "familiarity, warmth, memories." For more than the busy. For more than merely food, and yet food can be a place where healing begins.

For Niequist, that includes quinoa. She says:

"We all have those stretches--busy parenting seasons where the nights feel like a blink and the days wear on and on, or work deadlines that throw off our routines, or extended family commitments that pull us in a thousand directions. What heals me on those days when it all feels chaotic and swirling is the simplicity of home, morning prayers, tea, and breakfast quinoa."

Neiquist is not pretending that quinoa, or tea, or any food, is the actual Answer to her Hunger. Rather she's going back to that idea of sacrament. For her, fixing a bowl quinoa is a sacrament of home and rootedness, peace and calm; the things of God, which is what her heart hungers for the most after all.

What our hearts hunger for the most of all.