Soybean pie, anyone?

Here might be a good spot to define "Hamiltopia." For nearly 2 years, friends of ours who all live in Baltimore's Hamilton neighborhood have gathered weekly for a community meal. The host family prepares a simple dish, maybe with an accompanying vegetable or salad, and folks show up any time after 5:30 to partake. No table is set, people help themselves, sit anywhere, and enjoy the important part--fellowship and conversation.

We've had great discussions over these 2 years--how to encourage one another, parenting, living joyfully and contentedly through the inevitable struggles of life, our society's pressure to have more & buy more (promoting a lot of sharing of our resources), Scriptural discussions, and political discourses. We've simplified the way we eat and have experimented with foods from other parts of the world.

A month or so ago, my friend Di had a "lentil week." She thoughtfully prepared various lentil dishes, and her family did very well until the lentil version of meatloaf was served. Her husband, Tim, while scooping some onto 13-year-old Alex's plate, wryly said, "Some dog food, Alex?" They had a good laugh--Di included--but I will say I tried the lentil-loaf and it tasted great. (Tim was, however, spot-on in describing its appearance.)

Not long after this, I tried a recipe for soybean pie. Soybeans are an excellent, cheap source of protein that lots of people in other countries eat as a staple. (I say things like this a lot.)

In spite of its healthy benefits, the soybean pie was hard to eat, even with lots of ketchup. The only way Evelyn could swallow it was to close her eyes and flap her arms wildly while chewing. The girls had large bowls of ice cream for dessert, and Alan & I spent the rest of the week empathizing with much of the third world. He really does eat pretty much everything I cook--amazing guy.

I thought I'd make it up to him, though, with a recipe called "Beer Cheese Soup" (he likes beer...he likes cheese...sounded like a winner)--and though he tried valiantly, he could not finish one serving (he'd even bought Heineken in cans just for the recipe. It's uncertain he'll ever be able to drink a Heineken again.) Di suggested I might enjoy it as a fondue, and in the Hamiltopian ideal of not wasting anything, I dutifully ate it for lunch for week over "toast points."

The final comment here is that now, whenever Di's kids are prone to complaining about what's on the healthy menu at their house, Di now says, "Do you want me to call Tina and Alan and see what THEY'RE eating? Maybe you can have dinner with THEM."