God Talk and Tea

An heirloom Lenten chowder adapted from mom’s recipe collection ~ Lois Rogers, What Are You Cooking For Dinner?

With food prices rising astronomically this Lenten season, I can’t help but envision my mother during similar financial squeezes. Every Sunday before Mass, she’d go through the food pages in the newspaper, clipping coupons with a manic glow on her face.

She’d come of age late in the Depression and made it through rationing as a new bride during the Second World War. Under the watchful eye of her own mother, a Slovakian immigrant who’d come through hard times of her own, Mom learned how to be thrifty to the utmost.

Lucky for us, she was also a good cook who knew how to make the most of sale items, be they fresh ingredients or the boxed and canned non-perishable goods with which she lined the shelves of the large pantry she always referred to as “the closet.”

Her culinary talent for turning sale staples into memorable meals lent itself particularly to sauces, stews and soups. And each year as Lent approaches, I think of the meatless soups and, most especially, the chowders she was so good at composing, often starting with a base of clams and their broth,

These Lenten soups – Manhattan and New England clam chowder, her own “vegetarian vegetable” and mixed seafood soup – were, as I recall, wonderful for warming up Friday nights in March. Years ago, I tinkered with recreating her corn and potato chowder.

Inspired by combinations on the internet, I added canned salmon as the seafood, mixing it with vegetable broth (so available these days), diced carrots and potatoes, sweet onion and light cream.

The result is a Salmon, Corn and Potato Chowder that, I hope, will warm the cockles of your heart. This is a good recipe to play with. I chose canned salmon as the key ingredient as it’s reasonable now, but the pricier clams, shrimp or scallops would work as well. I’ve used a pound of bay scallops when they are on sale or a half pound of medium shrimp which are often discounted in supermarkets during Lent.

Other vegetables – I’m thinking, sweet peas, mushrooms, and of course, chopped celery – would be good additions.

I often serve the chowder with a mixed green salad and crusty bread.                                                                                                                                                  

Salmon, Corn and Potato Chowder – serves four

Ingredients

– 6 tablespoons butter

– 2 large carrots, diced

– two large baking potatoes, diced

– 1/3 sweet onion, diced

– 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

– 2 cups vegetable broth

– 2 cups light cream

– 1 can corn kernels

– two 6 ounce cans of good quality, skinned and boned salmon

Directions: In a large, heavy saucepan, melt the butter. Then add the potatoes, carrots and onions and cook over medium heat stirring frequently for about 10 minutes until they are tender but not brown. Stir in the flour, salt and pepper. Gradually add the broth and light cream. Cook until it thickens a bit and gets bubbly but don’t boil. Add the corn and canned salmon, stir for a minute or two and then serve.

Tip: Flaked baked or broiled salmon filet leftovers are fine to use in this chowder and adding a few ounces of clam broth to the mix wouldn't hurt.  From chopping the vegetables to serving the soup, it took less than 40 minutes to prepare.

Lois Rogers has been writing about faith, family and food (most notably in her award-winning blog, "Keeping the Feast" which has appeared in The Trenton Monitor) for most of her professional career. She may be reached at [email protected].

Photo by John Vachon - Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3444701

Assaulted by war, even faith may be wounded

Headlines recognized it as a miracle.

An earthquake let loose an avalanche from a nearby mountain, nearly wiping out the homes and businesses of a small

Ukrainian rescuers check the remains of a street in Chernigiv.

community and killing thousands. But somehow, the boulders stopped within feet of the local church. It was deemed an act of God.

The anger and frustration rose within me. “The real miracle,” I blurted out, “would have been if You had spared the thousands who died and not an empty building.”

Honesty with God comes from a lifetime of believing in, of praying and being faithful to God, but I would be lying if I said I never questioned the justice and mercy of God. I would be dishonest before God if I didn’t share my frustration with what often seems like God’s lack of interest in his children.

I’ve never questioned the existence of God, but I certainly do not pretend to understand God’s ways. I know I am not alone in this. We are only human, after all. Coming to terms with this kind of conflict is part of the process of faith, and it is put to the test during the worst of times, as when war or atrocity becomes a reality.

While the fighting is not yet at our doorsteps, the media now brings war into our homes daily. We see and hear the pain of those who are in death’s path. We watch bombs fall and homes go up in flames. We are appalled and heart broken and when we hear the number of civilian deaths we wonder if our prayers will ever be answered. We may even ask, “Where are you, God? Why are you allowing your innocent children to suffer such inhumanity?”

And perhaps there, in that word “inhumanity,” is an answer.  War is a human action, a choice, an evil that is a blot on human history throughout the ages, and yet it persists. Perhaps the real miracles are those we are now seeing on the television. The human miracles, the often-hidden stories of sacrifices people, once strangers, are making on behalf of others, the children of God being children of God. Beautiful stories, but not enough to make sense of so much death and horror.

Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Laureate Elie Wiesel experienced unspeakable atrocities which put a seemingly insurmountable distance between him and God. In his renowned book, “Night,” Wiesel writes honestly, “For the first time, I felt anger rising within me. Why should I sanctify His name? The Almighty, the eternal and terrible Master of the Universe, chose to be silent. What was there to thank Him for?”

Many years later, Wiesel would also share his reconciliation with God in a New York Times column, writing of what he once called his “wounded faith,” saying, “I now realize I never lost it, not even over there, during the darkest hours of my life. I don’t know why I kept on whispering my daily prayers, and those one reserved for the Sabbath, and for the holidays, but I did recite them, often with my father and, on Rosh ha-Shanah eve, with hundreds of inmates at Auschwitz.”

He admitted being haunted for a lifetime with the question, “Where were you, God of kindness, in Auschwitz?” Yet, he entreated God: “Let us make up: for the child in me, it is unbearable to be divorced from you so long.”

As I watch the horror unfold in the Ukraine, and see the innocent, worried faces of Ukrainian children, their voices raised to God and their hands clasped in prayer, I question my God of love. Yet, I continue to pray that God will see and hear the children, and that Elie Wiesel has God’s ear.

Photo attributed to mvs.gov.ua - Ministry of Internal Affairs of Ukraine

Assaulted by war, even faith may be wounded

Headlines recognized it as a miracle.

An earthquake let loose an avalanche from a nearby mountain, nearly wiping out the homes and businesses of a small

Ukrainian rescuers check the remains of a street in Chernigiv.

community and killing thousands. But somehow, the boulders stopped within feet of the local church. It was deemed an act of God.

The anger and frustration rose within me. “The real miracle,” I blurted out, “would have been if You had spared the thousands who died and not an empty building.”

Honesty with God comes from a lifetime of believing in, of praying and being faithful to God, but I would be lying if I said I never questioned the justice and mercy of God. I would be dishonest before God if I didn’t share my frustration with what often seems like God’s lack of interest in his children.

I’ve never questioned the existence of God, but I certainly do not pretend to understand God’s ways. I know I am not alone in this. We are only human, after all. Coming to terms with this kind of conflict is part of the process of faith, and it is put to the test during the worst of times, as when war or atrocity becomes a reality.

While the fighting is not yet at our doorsteps, the media now brings war into our homes daily. We see and hear the pain of those who are in death’s path. We watch bombs fall and homes go up in flames. We are appalled and heart broken and when we hear the number of civilian deaths we wonder if our prayers will ever be answered. We may even ask, “Where are you, God? Why are you allowing your innocent children to suffer such inhumanity?”

And perhaps there, in that word “inhumanity,” is an answer.  War is a human action, a choice, an evil that is a blot on human history throughout the ages, and yet it persists. Perhaps the real miracles are those we are now seeing on the television. The human miracles, the often-hidden stories of sacrifices people, once strangers, are making on behalf of others, the children of God being children of God. Beautiful stories, but not enough to make sense of so much death and horror.

Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Laureate Elie Wiesel experienced unspeakable atrocities which put a seemingly insurmountable distance between him and God. In his renowned book, “Night,” Wiesel writes honestly, “For the first time, I felt anger rising within me. Why should I sanctify His name? The Almighty, the eternal and terrible Master of the Universe, chose to be silent. What was there to thank Him for?”

Many years later, Wiesel would also share his reconciliation with God in a New York Times column, writing of what he once called his “wounded faith,” saying, “I now realize I never lost it, not even over there, during the darkest hours of my life. I don’t know why I kept on whispering my daily prayers, and those one reserved for the Sabbath, and for the holidays, but I did recite them, often with my father and, on Rosh ha-Shanah eve, with hundreds of inmates at Auschwitz.”

He admitted being haunted for a lifetime with the question, “Where were you, God of kindness, in Auschwitz?” Yet, he entreated God: “Let us make up: for the child in me, it is unbearable to be divorced from you so long.”

As I watch the horror unfold in the Ukraine, and see the innocent, worried faces of Ukrainian children, their voices raised to God and their hands clasped in prayer, I question my God of love. Yet, I continue to pray that God will see and hear the children, and that Elie Wiesel has God’s ear.

Photo attributed to mvs.gov.ua - Ministry of Internal Affairs of Ukraine