This Week at the Table
Because sometimes, all it takes is bare feet, pantry staples, and a little bit of grace.
Be my guest, there’s a seat saved just for you…
This week, I found myself standing barefoot in the kitchen, chasing a little joy with a handful of pantry staples and a prayer. Sometimes, grace shows up in the simplest meals. And sometimes, cooking something new is just what you need to remember what’s possible. Whether your week has been full or quiet, messy or magic, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s gather around the table together.
We wrapped up the very first week of The Jeanie Jo & Joanna Project, and already the table feels a little more intentional, a little more joyful. Not every meal was perfect. Some were leftovers. Some were recipes I have made before. But together, they told a story — one of rhythm, care, and showing up again.
We started with Chicago Dogs and Texas Caviar from Magnolia Table, Vol. 3. Easy. Familiar. The kind of meal that reminds me it doesn’t have to be complicated to be good. Texas Caviar might just be my new favorite side; bright, fresh, and just tangy enough to keep things interesting.
Midweek brought Almond Chicken Tenderloins from Volume 1 and Macaroni Salad from Volume 2. No fanfare. Just good food that hit the spot. Clean plates, seconds requested, and not a single leftover. I call that a win.
Breakfast gave us moments of delight too. A Berry Filled Dutch Baby puffed up beautifully to start the week. Later, French Toast with Vanilla Maple Syrup from Volume 2 reminded me how something as simple as warm syrup can feel like kindness. Some mornings were practical; Protein Shakes or a slice of Oatmeal Raisin Bar grabbed on the way out the door. Some mornings were slower, and I was grateful for both.
Snacks leaned sweet. Blonde Brownies and Homemade Chocolate Sauce with Vanilla Ice Cream became an unofficial theme. Because sometimes dessert isn’t about needing it. It’s about making the ordinary feel a little softer.
We ended the week with something special. Not a recipe. Not a homemade meal. A night out. Dinner at Number 13 in Galveston to celebrate our anniversary. Good food, good conversation, and the quiet kind of gratitude that shows up after years of sitting at the same table together.
Week one is done. And it already feels like something worth holding onto.
Clean As You Go (Even Just a Little)
I used to cook like a tornado and deal with the aftermath later. These days? I’ve learned to wash a few dishes while something simmers or wipe the counter while the oven preheats. It doesn’t have to be perfect , just a little reset here and there keeps the chaos in check. Dinner feels lighter when the kitchen isn’t a disaster zone afterward.
7 Things I Keep in My Kitchen (Besides the Obvious)
Maldon Flaky Sea Salt — for finishing everything
Little Glass Prep Bowls — to feel like I’m on a cooking show
Cloth Napkins — even on regular Tuesdays
A Wooden Spoon I’ve had for 22 years
A “You Can Do This” (a new favorite) playlist on a nearby speaker
A Candle I light before I start cooking
A Bowl for Scraps to make cleanup feel easier
The crowd is thick with need. Jairus is pleading. The woman is reaching. Both desperate. Both hopeful. Both seen. Jesus meets them in the middle of the noise, the fear, the waiting. He listens. He heals. He calls them daughter. He takes their hands. And when it looks too late, he says the words we still need to hear.
Do not be afraid. Just believe.
Read more: Jesus Heals a Woman and Jairus’ Daughter
He still moves through our chaos with love. He still notices the quiet ones and the broken ones and the ones who barely know how to ask for help. He still stops. He still sees. He still heals. And maybe today, all we need is to reach for the hem of grace and trust that it will be enough.
May your week be held in grace, one ordinary moment at a time.
gracefully yours,
Food, faith & a little chaos—where spills happen, laughter is required, and grace is always on the menu. Let’s connect — visit my bio site. Affiliate links may be included, thanks for supporting my work (and my coffee habit).
