The sermon at church this week was "Worship = Reconciliation" Our pastor's sermon on Leviticus 16. We discussed this in small group as well. I couldn't seem to remember the main point of the sermon. All I could think about was meat.

All I could think about during the sermon was the Pastor's lead in, which was about how he went out for a big dinner the night before, and since he's on the Atkins diet, he's eating a lot of meat. So after the bacon and eggs for breakfast, and the rest of his gastonomical endeavors in the morning. He get's to the point about how he can't worship if his stomach is upset.

And then he starts reading from the bible, on how the ancient Israelites worshiped. The sin offering, and the burnt offering, and the preperation of the priests of Aaron for the day of attonement. About goats, rams, and bulls to be offered up to heaven.

All I can think about is, "dang all that roasting meat probably smelled good." No wonder God delighted in the aroma of the offering.

Thus the NY times has this article about Southern Country Ham, which is actually a better sermon lead in, and less of an inspiration for the hopeless romantic than I initially thought.
"Taste My Prosciutto" He said with a Drawl

It's a good story about how you can take somthing that's quintessentially southern-American, in all it's unasshamed emphatic salinity, somthing that shouldn't even make consideration in the diverse multicultural cosmopolitan culture of New York or California. And yet, upon closer examination, shows a complexity and depth of flavor, that rivals and even stands as an equal, to all the things that we have held aloft as the finest examples of our civility.

The culinary world is the best and the worst example of multiculturalism. Thus is why this site is called GyozaQuest, the relentless pursuit of perfection.