I recently received an invitation to submit a recipe for a fund-raising cookbook. I love the cause, but… Did I have any recipe that was “mine”? If so, was it good enough?
Hmm.
The process should have been simple. Reality’s record shows that I have only authored one recipe. I could construct a second with a dish I love to prepare, but I only have one. The remaining question was one of worthiness. Usually one judges this by its fruit. I know that many have enjoyed it when I have prepared the dish, however others, all attempted by men struggling to find their way in the kitchen, have failed.
The struggle rested in my original quest. I wanted to replicate an experience of my childhood. I grew up enjoying masala chai in India. I loved the tea, the experience, and the care that went into every cup. I wanted to experience this again with a twist. I wanted my drink to have a coffee foundation.
Early attempts were exercises in failure. The mix of cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom did not blend with the coffee. The spice either sat above the coffee, overwhelming everything else in the cup, or it did not register. I explored coffee from Kenya, Brazil, Panama, Columbia, Indonesia, and even Jamaica. I used less spice or more. The balanced refused to be found! Nothing seems to work.
At the point of giving up a reflection triggered a different approach. A writer noted that “we don’t reduce Christ to what we are; he raises us to what he is. That’s basically what happened even in old Israel—those who ate the sacrifices offered on God’s altar entered into God’s action at the altar.” (1 Corinthians 10.18) If this is the case with God, why am I starting anywhere but with the foundation I know works!
I thought the foundation was coffee, in reality it was India. If everything started with India, the coffee of choice would be Mysore coffee from Otty. I started again and rediscovered the warmth, love, and experience in every cup.