Don't worry: there's no preaching in this post. The topic of food brings out strong emotions in people, and I would consider it unwise to provoke my readers (hi, mom) in my first-ever blog. Plus, when it comes to my daily diet, I'm nowhere near being the one without sin who might think of casting a stone or two. So rather than sermonizing, can I invite you to spend a few minutes thinking with me (I on the screen, you in your pajamas) about the topic of Quaker Food?

What IS Quaker Food?

I have no idea.

The Oats come to mind. Cliche. And oh, oh, oh, the Cadbury Bunnies, begging to be decapitated and savored. Personally, I think of the year I spent living in the Beacon Hill Friends House, an intentional Quaker community in Boston where our cook concocted feasts of eco-friendly "hippie" food for our co-op (and yes, there was plenty of homemade granola involving plenty of, yes, oats). I also think of my current faith home here in Munich, Germany, where the large African contingent whips up massive portions of rice and I-have-no-idea-what spices, a combination so deliciously satisfying that you hardly notice that your tongue has been burnt away and your hair is on fire. Fabulous.

Eating like a Quaker must mean more than the mere substance of our diets, though, right? It's not just the components that count, but the approach.

At the heart of the Quaker life is, for me, silence and presence - being alive to what you are engaged in, giving yourself fully to the act of living. Mealtime and nourishment are so essential, so fundamental to our existence as human beings that they almost beg to be more fully integrated into the Quaker life.

Granted, I'm no poster girl for meditative eating. Is any of us in America? I, too, munch at my computer, with book in hand, or while engaged in countless other activities. But I do feel fairly certain that Quaker eating should be slow and intentional, wholly engaged, and fully present - and lately I have been making an effort to slow down and savor. This might mean many things; what does it suggest to you? Developing a habit of meditation that extends even to mealtime? More time at home, preparing meals with your family and friends? Turning off the TV, banning frozen dinners?

Gratitude also suggests itself as an inseparable element of a Quaker food philosophy. Not just gratitude at the abundance and plenty of the American diet - although I take that for granted as much as you do - but gratitude for a God who designed organs of pleasure, who came up with the idea of making the Staff of Life not just unleavened, unsalted bread, but a literal embarrassment of riches. When is the last time you ate a sweet ripe fig, a really fantastically crunchy carrot, a fresh loaf of whole grain bread still steaming with the scent of living yeast, or a sensuously, indulgently, deliciously rich bar of dark chocolate, and stopped to consider what a wonder it is that God is so absurdly generous to us that she created not just vitamin-rich foods, but pleasurable foods? We have a God who not only feeds us, but nourishes us - and then some - who fills the acts of the everyday with joy.

And yes, a carrot can be that good. Don't roll your eyes at me (yes, I see you). Go, now, buy an organic carrot with some dirt on it, one that smells like a carrot, and eat it with your eyes closed. Chew. Breathe. Savor. Crunch.

See?

I rest my case.

Finally, I suspect that a Quaker approach to nourishment and consumption is fundamentally about respect. When I choose local foods and fresh produce, I am respecting the created world, and acknowledging both its inherent fragility and my tentative place within it. When I choose to reduce meat consumption, to buy fair trade, and to avoid highly processed foods pumped out in tubes in a factory in who-knows-where (hello, Cheez-Whiz!), I am aware of how my eating habits influence others' ability to survive on this planet alongside me. And when I make conscious, living choices about how to nourish my body and those of my family and friends, not out of legalism but out of love, I am exhibiting profound respect for God, self, and others.

I did step up to the soapbox at the end there, didn't I? But food brings out a passionate side of all of us... it's too fundamentally human to take lightly.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on how you might define Quaker Food!