If there is a single empowering act I can do each day, as a citizen of a rather vulnerable, wounded, and seemingly fragmented world, it is to cook. And it takes root in the one of the simplest of locations—the kitchen—and blossoms from there, at another universal but significant and symbolically charged venue—the dinner table. Here we can pray. Or give thanks. Discuss issues and fears and joys, with family or friends or neighbors. Practice the art of listening. Honor the earth and her miraculous, edible gifts. Endlessly, I could go on with all of the opportunities the kitchen and the table grant us.