Life

Thou shalt follow the recipe

7/21/05

By CHARLOTTE BOECHLER
NEWS-PRESS STAFF WRITER

LOCAL PRIEST MAKES THIS KITCHEN COMMANDMENT EASIER WITH NEW COOKBOOK

John Finley confesses that he sometimes asks for guidance from above when he's making his famous boiled custard.

"It's easy to mess up. There's been times when it's cooking," he said, "I prayed, 'Lord, help this to turn out right.' "

If anybody's prayers to rid his life of egg curdling would be answered, it would be John Finley's.

He is, after all, a priest at St. Athanasius Orthodox Church in Isla Vista.

If that's not enough, he's always got backup: an icon of St. Euphrosynos the cook above his stove and magnets praising God and depicting the Archangel Gabriel on his refrigerator.

Many of the dishes that come out of the Rev. Finley's tiny kitchen are featured in his new cookbook, "Sacred Meals" ($18.95, self-published). He will be signing copies of it at 7 tonight at Chaucer's Books, 3321 State St., Santa Barbara.

One of the recipes in it is for prosphora, or eucharistic bread, which is served every Sunday at his church for communion.

"We rotate among different families in the church so everyone has the opportunity to bake it," said the Rev. Finley, 52, the sleeves of his black clerical shirt rolled up and his collar loosened as he kneaded the dough on a recent morning. "The priest doesn't have to bake the bread. In fact, the priest usually doesn't . . . but I like to."

Once he rolled out the dough, he used the rim of a coffee can to cut out two circles, which he then stacked. Before the loaf was put into the oven, he used a large stamp bearing Greek letters reading "Jesus Christ Conquers" to emboxx a replica of the sign that Emperor Constantine I saw in the sky -- a sign that convinced him to become a Christian.

"You have to get it at a religious supply," said the Rev. Finley of the stamp, the likes of which were used in ancient times. "It just so happens my religious supply is a brother priest in Lompoc who makes these out of his garage!"

With the aroma of yeast hanging in the air, there was temptation, indeed, to slice into the bread once it was removed from the oven. But the Rev. Finley wasn't about to cut any. It's traditionally only offered to God at the altar during communion. And even then, it has to be served in a certain way. Using a spear, the square in the center of the bread, called the "Lamb," is removed in four cuts before the service.

"We say scripture verses when we make the cuts," said the Rev. Finley, adding that many members of the congregation probably aren't even aware of the ceremony involved before the service begins. "Then the bread is presented from the table of preparation to the Holy Altar in a procession."

The "Lamb" is then placed in a chalice filled with wine. One by one, members of the congregation approach the front of the church and receive a spoonful of the bread and wine to nourish and sustain their union with Jesus Christ.

Members of the church believe that bread is the body of Christ and wine is his blood. The church usually gets the wine at Vons, but the Rev. Finley has recently started making his own wine for communion.

"I didn't like what was in the grocery store," he admitted. The color wasn't a dark enough red, he said, and the alcohol content wasn't high enough for a wine that is diluted with warm water. (John 19:34-35 discusses how, during the crucifixion, when Christ's side was pierced with a spear, "there came out blood and water."

The water would have been warm when it spilled from Christ's body, said the Rev. Finley, which is why the wine is diluted with warm water at the church.)

Working out of his own garage, the Rev. Finley made his first batch of red zinfandel about a year ago. Before he served it to the congregation, he tested it out during a wine and cheese reception he hosted for a couple of "wine connoisseurs": a pastor and deacon from his church.

So how would the Rev. Finley describe his wine?

"Spicy . . . fruity," he said, after much consideration. His cookbook contains a chapter and several appendixes covering wine. A whole section is dedicated to words and descriptions used during wine tasting.

Considering that the Rev. Finley is as much a chef as he is a priest, Lent poses an interesting predicament. The period of 40 days before Easter is typically observed in Christian churches by fasting in some way. Which means, for the Rev. Finley, no animal byproducts.

What does he miss most?

"I have certain Christian friends who always ask, 'What are you giving up for Lent?' as if the whole thing is about food. I told one guy once, 'I'm giving up sin for Lent.' He looked at me with a funny look and didn't say anything," recalled the Rev. Finley. "It's not about just following rules. It's about regaining control of ourselves and our human dignity."

Maybe so. But he is still mortal.

"Bacon and eggs!" he finally blurted out.

During Lent, he usually eats oatmeal for breakfast. The recipe for it -- and many others appropriate for the observance -- is in the cookbook. But it only yields enough oatmeal for one.

"I don't force my children to keep the fast of the church. Everyone has to come to this conclusion on their own," explained the Rev. Finley. "So I'm here, fixing oatmeal. They're like, 'Ewww!' "

Not all the recipes in the cookbook have religious connections, but they are equally divine. The Rev. Finley, who learned to cook from his grandparents, included several family favorites.

"I don't compartmentalize religion in my life," he explained. "All of our meals are sacred meals if we acknowledge God's provision in what we eat and share together."

Even deviled eggs?

"Even deviled eggs," he said.

Yes, the Rev. Finley actually includes a recipe for them. His are so good, in fact, that the ladies at his church usually ask him to make four dozen deviled eggs at Easter. Isn't that sacrilegious?

"Maybe," he said with a laugh. "I try to redeem it by using angel hair pasta at Christmas."

The Rev. Finley wrote the cookbook for his children, Owen, 24, Holly, 21, and John, 17. He tries to sit down for a meal with them and his wife, Jan, as often as possible.

"We're able to discuss our values and perspectives on the world around the table and, in so doing, we're able to help mold the character of our children," he said. "When food is just fast food and everyone eats as an individual, what does that do to society? It's a reflection of a path toward alienation from each other. Human beings need community. Community begins in the family."

But even the Rev. Finley's family once struggled to find that time together.

"I can remember coming to a point in my life where I thought the best way to express to my youngest son that I love him is to take him to McDonald's," he admitted.

He realizes now that even if they can't sit down at the table together once a day, they can do it once a week. And when they do, you can be sure the Rev. Finley will say a blessing before he eats. He always does.

Even at McDonald's.

"Especially at McDonald's," he chuckled.

e-mail: cboechler@newspress.com

MIKE ELIASON / NEWS-PRESS PHOTOS

He's a priest and a fryer. The Rev. John Finley has a new cookbook that features dozens of recipes, including one for prosphora or eucharistic bread, above.

As any cook knows, presentation is everything. Particularly when it involves serving prosphora or eucharistic bread and wine.

When some cooks flub a recipe, they say a few choice words. What happens when the cook is a priest? The Rev. John Finley is no saint. "I would be lying if I said a curse word never crossed my lips while cooking."

He's just more selective about which ones.