The Lost Art of Learning Through Food

by Stacy Lyn Harris

Food is central to life. You cannot live without it. Every generation before us, and everyone after us, will experience the sacred rhythm of growing, harvesting, preparing and gathering, around food. It’s the common language of humanity, transcending time, culture, geography, economics, language, and social class. It’s no wonder that God creates endless variety of nutrients – colors, textures, herbs, grains, fruits, wild and domesticated animals – with which to create limitless dishes and nourish the body and soul. Food is never merely physical in Scripture or in life; it is spiritual, relational, cultural, and deeply personal. It teaches stewardship, hospitality, gratitude, discipline, creativity, and love. It produces intimacy and connection among those who break bread together. It is much too important to outsource, surrendering to others the responsibility of deciding what healthy, flavorful, and nourishing for our families. Instead, we must remain lifelong learners alongside our children, leaning into our curiosity and creativity in sourcing and preparing the meals that connect and enrich ourselves, our families, and the community.
“I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious.” – Albert Einstein
Another thing central to our lives is learning. God created us innately curious, leading to learning and creating. I adore learning. After graduating law school and passing the BAR exam, the hardest decision each day was where to direct my learning. I was a bit lost. I’d always been given assigned material to learn, so now what? I knew I wasn’t meant to just rotely make it through the day. Quite by accident and merely out of necessity to feed my family the best meals on the planet, along with a healthy amount of curiosity, my thoughts and research were directed toward making nutritious, insanely delicious, and beautiful meals for my family. I began seeing every part of life through the lens of food. It’s hard to believe, but 30 years later, my curiosity about food preparation from the garden, field, woods, and water remains as passionate as it was back then. As I get older, food becomes even more interesting to me, sparking more curiosity, which in turn creates more learning opportunities. Because we can visit any country or culture that comes to mind with a rapid-fire search, I can bring the world’s best of every culture’s food to my family table. The possibilities are endless.
Whether you are a “foodie” or not, the truth is food is essential and food matters. The very first assignment given to Adam was not merely to exist in Eden, but to cultivate it. Genesis 2:15 says that God placed Adam in the garden to dress it and to keep it. Humanity’s first calling was that of gardener. It involved stewardship, cultivation, observation, and care. Growing, cultivating, and preparing food are woven into God’s design for humanity. Seeing my children grow up tending to the soil, seeds, planning, growing plants, and harvesting in the garden, I have noticed a peace and joy that I don’t see many other places, besides the kitchen. My hypothesis is that they are using all their senses in their work. Being outdoors is a sensory overload, but feeling the dirt, hearing the birds, smelling the soil and blooming flowers, seeing the first leaves emerge, and eventually tasting that first ripe tomato can’t be found in many other places. Something worth noting here is that anytime there was a problem in the garden, the one who planted it would research it. It sparked curiosity and more learning took place. Interestingly, all the kids that are married ALL have gardens, and all of them cook like a James Beard Award Winning Chef.
The kitchen, like the garden, engages every sense God gave us. We hear onions sizzling in butter and bread crackling as it cools. We smell soup simmering on the stove. We tough the dough as it transforms beneath our hands. We see colors, steam, textures, and beauty. We taste sweetness, saltiness, richness, and balance. Even more than that, food draws people together.
If you were to visit my home on Sunday after church, you’d see every single one of the kids in the kitchen help prepare the food. No one shies away from working in the kitchen. Growing and cooking food together are extremely relational. We now have a weekly Bible study for college age kids, and they are learning the shared art of preparing food, as well as enjoying the fruits of their labor around the table.
In Scripture, food is rarely “just food.” It is surrounded with hospitality, comfort, provision, covenant, fellowship, remembrance, worship, and joy.
When God met with Abraham on the plains of Mamre, he ate with him. Abraham offered, “And I will fetch a morsel of bread, and comfort ye your hearts” (Gen18: 5). Moses fed them bread, butter, milk, and a calf. Clearly, the bread, fellowship, rest, and hospitality were comfort to the Lord and the two other men.
One of the most memorable miracles recorded in all four of the gospels is a perfect example of provision and care. Jesus multiplied five loaves and two fishes to feed 5,000 people, plus women and children, providing nourishment, thoughtfulness, and care to those listening to him.
The Last Supper demonstrates food not being “just food” probably more than any other, as well as demonstrating the intimacy of lingering as the disciples ate their last meal with Jesus. John, the disciple Jesus loved, lay his head on Jesus’ chest while reclining at the table. It was so intimate that John asked Jesus privately who would betray him, reflecting a trusting relationship with Jesus.
Another favorite example of this intimate connection related to hospitality and food takes place on the shore of the Sea of Galilee when Jesus appeared to the disciples. He was making them a hearty breakfast of fish and bread over a coal fire. It was one of the most tender moments in scripture. The Savior of the world making breakfast is deeply moving, but so incredibly Jesus-like.
Food and intimacy are inexorably connected. The first act in glory after we get our resurrected bodies is to share a meal together in celebration of the union of the church and her Savior. When we meet with our families, we eat. The connection between intimacy and food is intrinsic and inseparable.
Even after Jesus was resurrected the early church shared in meals with one another daily. In Acts 2:46, we see that meals were central to Christian fellowship and community life. “They did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart.”
This sentiment holds true in all the cultures I’ve studied. Food is far more than sustenance it is identity, memory, tradition, and belonging. Every culture has its own rituals surrounding the growing, gathering, preparing, and sharing of food, and those traditions are lovingly passed down from one generation to the next. Recipes tell stories. Meals create connection. But, in America especially, we are slowly losing many of these rich traditions to “convenience culture.” The modern culture disconnects people from the source of food. Fast food, packaged meals, endless drive-throughs, and constant hurry can disconnect many families from the beauty and responsibility of nourishment. Certainly there are busy seasons and practical necessities, but there is a danger in surrendering all understanding of food and health to industries, trends, or strangers.
We are increasingly allowing corporations, trends, and advertising to dictate nutrition and taste. We are trusting corporations to feed us and tell us what we should be searching out ourselves.
We have stopped learning.
Much of our food is being imported from other countries. The fruits and vegetables aren’t allowed to ripen on the vine, leaving them tasteless and lacking in nutrition. Our nutrition is often being stripped out of our foods, leaving a nutrition deficit that impacts our health, not to mention the flavor of the food.
Learning to cook seasonally is worth the investment of time. Be creative. I always say, “Creativity leads to more creativity.” Your food will taste better, and you and your family will be healthier because of the nutritional value in fully vine-ripened fruits and vegetables.
Learning to cook wholesome meals is wise stewardship. Growth in knowledge is part of loving yourself and others well.
Another advantage that most people don’t contemplate is that you’ll create more adventurous, well-rounded kids. By eating seasonally and creatively, your kids will be forced to try a variety of recipes, enlarging their world. Our family loves food from other cultures to the point that we travel based on the food and restaurants along the way. There’s even a connection in this, not to mention the fun we have.
We are living in one of the greatest periods in history for learning. Today we have access to the world’s kitchens at our fingertips. We can study and order spices of India, olive oils of Greece, breads of Italy, and the hospitality traditions of countless cultures.
As a homeschooling family of 9, and I’m counting Scott and me in that since we are continuing to learn at home, much of our learning has taken place in the garden, kitchen, and around the table. Almost every subject can be taught in one of these places. We learn chemistry, science, and agriculture in the garden, fractions and history in the kitchen, and politics, world affairs, and every other kind of interesting thing at the table.
Proverbs tell us that “the ear of the wise seeketh knowledge.” Prudent people are always actively learning, not merely receiving knowledge by accident. They seek it intentionally. What better opportunity and area to learn than that of your food – it’s what makes up life.
If you want your kids to have a zest for life, create in them the desire to be a lifelong learner. Start in the garden, kitchen, and the table. You get excited about it. Share your excitement. They will catch the bug. I can almost promise you that. It will connect your family, which will eventually pour out into the world. Kids love seeing their parents excited about something, learning and developing, and becoming better people. It gives them hope. Let’s stop outsourcing our information and our food and take ownership in learning for ourselves how to best create meaningful, healthy, beautiful, flavorful meals. Stay curious. Keep learning. Become intentional about enriching connections and intimacy by creating lingering moments surrounded by nutritious, delicious, and creative food.