Homemade eggs noodles are such a comforting thing to me. They take me back to another era—an era when people carried casseroles to new neighbors and made time for visiting on front porches.
It isn’t that noodles are difficult to make; they aren’t. I just don’t think most folks want to spend their time making noodles any more. Maybe it’s because we don’t have to make them in order to have access to them. Maybe it’s because we’ve found faster, better, easier ways of doing things. I don’t know. Either way, I was recently blessed to spend an afternoon making noodles from scratch with a couple of friends.
I took my favorite noodle recipe, some eggs from our hens and the rolling pin that my Grandma Rayl gave to me for a bridal shower gift nineteen years ago. The rolling pin still looks like new even though I have used it many, many times. I like thinking about Grandma when I’m working in the kitchen, and my heart swells with the memory of her “wirebrush curls” and twinkling eyes. She was a treasure to me.
My friends and I enjoyed the benefit of a KitchenAid mixer to make our noodle dough, and we each took our turns making a double batch for our families. We chatted while adding the flour, good-naturedly teasing one another from time to time about our progress. While kneading and then rolling out the dough, we shared thoughts about mothering, being wives, ministry situations and hobbies. It was fun and comfortable and safe.
While waiting for the noodle dough to dry, we encouraged one another in various aspects of homemaking, sharing ideas on how to cook black beans in the crockpot or how to double recipes in order to have a back-up in the freezer for busy nights. It was a simple, beautiful, ongoing conversation that had many interruptions and held no judgment for one another. We took steaming cups of tea to the sunroom and looked through recipes and cookbooks. We recognized the various stages of life in which we were living and felt the common desire to live each day well.
Taking turns with the solitary pizza cutter, we cut our noodles. Our faces were glowing with accomplishment, and we discussed the menu options these noodles created. The noodles were done, and they looked wonderful!
In the span of a couple of hours, I made enough noodles for three meals for my family. Could I have had a bigger return on my investment with something else? Maybe. Then again, maybe not. Out of the abundance of these two friends, I received the gift of community that day. I shared my know-how. They shared their time. We each shared our experiences. Our encouragement. Our joy. Our love.
Maybe that bygone era of noodle-makers and casserole-bearers knew a thing or two about living life to its fullest. Maybe efficiency isn’t always in our best interest, and maybe progress is moving us backward. We need one another, and we were created for fellowship.
So, grab some eggs and a rolling pin. Oh, and an extra pizza cutter. I’ve posted the recipe, and I invite you to make noodles with a friend. I can almost guarantee that you’ll return home with more than just really good noodles.
“Though one may be overpowered, two can defeat themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” –Ecclesiastes 4:12