Serve hot with grated parmesan on top in a green platter you always knew you would have a use for

Well, if somebody can make their short story lengthier, it’s me. In this vein, I made this simple recipe inspired by the NY Times more complicated. You’re welcome.

Their recipe for quick weekday dinner with toasted gnocchi with Brussels sprouts was genius and it asked for store bought traditional gnocchi. I said, to this easy recipe - “gno-way”. If there was ever a partnership sanctioned by the universe or at least by the Food Network, it is Brussels sprouts and sweet potato. Knowing this, on my day off, I dove head first (because belly flops are not my jam) into making sweet potato gnocchi from scratch. Yes people, I made my own sweet potato gnocchi and used it in this recipe in the high stakes game called “Meat Free Lent Fridays (And yes, hotdogs are cheating).”

Overall it was successful but I suffered for a lack of kitchen scale, making finding the perfect marriage of sweet potato to flour hard. I soldiered on, through sticky dough, my sadness over wasting the nutrients in the sweet potato peels and my desire to screw the gnocchi and stuff myself silly with Brussels sprouts.

I will make it again, but not just for just myself because despite how beautiful it looked, I feel it was meant to be shared. Honestly, after I was done, I could only muster my appetite for frozen fish sticks. If you are wondering. I generally don’t stock frozen fish sticks in my miniature (and by miniature I mean had to be ordered specially because it is so small) fridge, but this is Lent so I made a special trip to actually buy fish sticks. I owe this yes, to my exhaustion and my sadness over eating a solitary meal, but more I owe my decision to forgo feasting on this feast on the day I prepared it to my earlier disappointment of not having an actual “Fillet of Fish” in Fillet of Fish Season. My whole time walking the aisles of Walmart I was psyching myself up about the seasonal loveliness of the Fillet of Fish which I promised myself I would treat myself to at the end of my shopping trip, Yes, when I am not an extremely expensive date, I am my own version of a very cheap date. At that moment I would have been charmed by every person who offered me breaded haddock on a Kaiser. My plans were foiled by a sulky cashier who refused to process my order correctly. Unfortunately, because the person taking my order at McDonalds was an unqualified hole which lives in your rear (who in my head I jokingly named “that heretic who hates puppies, kittens and probably just ate a hot dog”), I walked away from the Walmart McDonalds sadly empty-handed and kind of understanding the concept of divine retribution. I had my fish sticks later before I stopped by Stations of the Cross, another Lenten ritual, determined to not eat meat in observation of the season.

About Lent: As a Catholic I am about as crunchy and liberal as they come and I attribute my relentless pursuit of trying to practice my imperfect faith to my adolescent pothead love of incense, my love of liberation theology and the solace I found from prayer in places and spaces I did not ever expect to be. In general, I do think it is good for our souls to experience some sort of self dictated discipline or sacrifice and in the cadence of Lent, I have found a real understanding of how our mindfulness can be raised by slight adjustments in our routines. No, it is not a big deal not to have a hot dog on Fridays, until I find myself wanting my own hot dog on Friday. It is considered old fashioned to some and taken to extreme by others, this practice of making adjustments to daily routines to achieve enlightenment or even a vague understanding of sacrifice, but I find giving something up for Lent and refraining from meat brings into my consciousness what a brat I can be internally. In the past I have been challenged on my love of my faith by people who claim being politically progressive and being a practicing Catholic are mutually exclusive, but some of the most progressive people I know are clergy members who have dedicated their lives to serving people in framework of this faith. Some of my most favorite people are gay clergy members who healthily love their faith but not its past intolerance and despite the dissonance can still love themselves and their vocation. Not everybody can, and for the people who feel rejected by my faith, I feel sadness for their feelings over being treated unfairly and sympathy. I happen to have been born straight, baptized Catholic and unless profound disagreements over catechism count, have not been abused or ostracized by members of the clergy who I respect. With this knowledge, I understand my journey with my faith is not as painful as the journeys of others and I also recognize how easy some of these things are for me to write and how hard they are to read by people without my same life experience. In compassion, I can say I know what it is to be told you are broken, because of who you have loved, what has happened to you and what you refuse to be forced to be, and in solidarity I hope some of the many beautiful writings about faith which are part of the Catholic canon, which have nothing to do with sexuality or perceived “sin”, can be read by all people with the knowledge they were meant for all. My hope for people who have not felt included or accepted is you know I believe, as many Catholics do, that we are all born perfect (which means you were born to love who you love) and essential.

There have been wrongs done in the name of the Faith I practice and there have been miraculous acts of service, and I choose to practice my faith because I see in it a window into what my journey can mean and be. As I love this democracy we live in but I do not choose to ignore its chapters where people were treated unjustly, persecuted, exploited and ignored, so I see my flawed faith as having a dynamic history of sadness and redemption. In acknowledging where we have been flawed in this nation’s past and present, we are able to move from a place of bigotry and injustice, and my relationship with my faith is similarly based on my understanding it is an institution which is trying to meet the world where it is, be more accepting and atone for its mistakes. My faith is the faith of the Magdelene Laundries and scandalous mishandling of abuse of children and my faith is the faith of nuns who chain themselves to prison gates to protest the executions of men they have not ever met, but value as members of humanity. My cousin works in Public Health, and for quite some time he worked in Haiti. The local people accepted his presence because they thought he was a priest, as they reasoned the only people they knew who did work similar to the work he was doing with the indigent and ailing, with no request for payment and no regard for their safety, were priests. For as many awful things which have done in the name of God by people of every faith, I am confident there are an equal number of selfless and brave things done in the name of faith in an unseeable but all-knowing deity(ies). This season we celebrate, Lent, is meant to be a time of contemplation, hope and penance. It is a space during the year where for 40 days we engage in contemplation of where we could be better, focus on finding healthy ways to do penance for the ways we failed ourselves and others, and meditate on the hope which comes from practicing an ancient and imperfect faith which preaches forgiveness and love. Through practicing my much maligned faith and observing its seasons, I believe I can see myself and my faith as becoming more beautiful, welcoming and wise. I might write more about this season in another post, but many religions have built into their calendar times for reflection and contemplation, and I am on the list of people who have been told “this is yours”. Reflecting on where we have been and where we are interested in going, no matter what or to whom or how we pray, can only make us better able to bring about healing, understanding, tolerance, joy and unbridled appreciation for gnocchi innovations.