When I was growing up, my mum would make a roast for lunch most Sundays. She would put the meat and potatoes in the oven before we left for Sunday morning church, then come home and do the greens and gravy, and somehow it was always perfectly timed and home-made delicious.
(I used to think that I too would know how to do all this kitchen magic by the time I became a mum. Wrong!)
It was such an ingrained part of the rhythm of our house, and so often repeated that I have clear-as-present-day memories of eating the chicken wing, pouring the peas out to drain, washing up the potato pan. Through spells of having lots and then nothing much to say to my family (TEENS), stressed by exams or carefree in holidays, vegetarian, carnivore, church-goer or not: the Sunday Roast was there every week. It provided a dependable routine and ritual, a ‘the-world-is-bigger-than-me-but-I-am-provided-for-within-it’ scaffolding that is so crucial for all of us, and especially kids.
I have often thought of my childhood Sunday roasts as I experience them reincarnated in our Sunday night potluck meal after church. While in many ways different, Sanctuary’s dinner – with its routine, involvement of others and lack of any specific agenda other than sharing of food and company – gives that same crucial scaffolding now to my own little family now. There is even, dare I say, the same occasional feeling of ‘ugh I don’t have time or energy or conversation for this’ … coupled with knowing that this is good stuff, necessary even and especially on the low ebb weeks.
And it is Good Stuff. I read this article a few weeks ago and thought yep, we’re on to something real and important at Sanctuary.
So thank you all who come and cook and share. Welcome all who may join us. I often struggle to bring anything more than frozen sausage rolls, but I love carrying on my mum’s Sunday Roast tradition with you all.