Book Review: The Magick of Food

One of the best things about being an author is that a lot of my friends are also authors, and so when they write new stuff, I’ve got an advantage that many readers don’t have — I know that the person writing them is actually someone who knows their stuff. Such is the case with Gwion Raven’s book, The Magick of Food, which I pre-ordered as soon as I heard about it. Holy cow, y’all.

First and foremost, this ain’t just a cookbook. Yes, there are recipes in it, but there’s so much more. It’s chock-full of rituals, spells, and history, all relating to the magic of the relationship that human beings have with food, particularly in a spiritual context. From community building to mourning our dead, food and the way we prepare it and consume it has long been a part of the human experience. Gwion delves deep into all of the subtle nuances of culinary anthropology, and explores not just what we eat, but why we eat it, and what it means when we do so. He points out that from a specifically Pagan point of view, the sharing of a meal is a ritualized experience.

The first section is dedicated to the history of food and ritual, exploring the stories that early peoples left behind for us, in the form of pots, utensils, and even plant residue. From the Paleolithic age onward, Gwion shares the ritual components of meals from ancient Sumer and Mesopotamia, through the classical period of the Greeks and Romans, and on into the modern era. As a total history nerd, and one who loves to both cook and eat, I feel this on a practically molecular level.

Part two is a wonderful journey through the connection between food and magic itself. Building on the concept, which I agree with, that food is sacred, The Magick of Food isn’t a book that says “You have to do the things this way,” but one that says, “However you do it, be mindful of the meanings,” and that’s what I truly love here. He says,

The collecting of ingredients and the alchemy of cooking a meal, coupled with the magickal workings embedded into each herb and vegetable, are temporary vehicles for the magick being created… The magick must move, and move it does.

The magick must move. That’s pretty potent food for thought, right there.

No discussion of food and magic is complete without a conversation about food and sex, so there’s a chapter on that as well — and yes, food and sex tie in together beautifully, in cultures around the world, because like sex, food is a journey of all of our senses. From taste and touch, to scent and sight, both of these things are activities that make us happy. What’s more magical than using all of your senses for acts of pleasure?

Other sections include the use of food as a tool of community building, as a vehicle for healing and wellness, and as an expression of grief. Throughout each of these chapters, Gwion shares recipes and cooking tips, and simply spells and rituals that can be performed right there at the hearth or table, wherever the center of magic in your home may be.

As for the recipes, they’re thoughtfully presented in a way that makes sense and flows through the various spiritual aspects of kitchen witchery. There are some absolutely killer ones I’ve already tried, and I’m planning on doing more. Since I first got The Magick of Food right before Imbolc, I treated my coven sisters to a pan of Brigid Bread Pudding with Whisky Sauce (p. 228), and it was a big hit — plot twist: I ate the leftovers for breakfast the next day.

I’ve also cooked up a platter of The Salmon of Wisdom (p. 192), which features a hazelnut and honey topping that is TO DIE FOR, and a batch of the thoroughly decadent Chocolate Fondue and Strawberries (p. 90), in which I smothered my fruit in Grand Marnier. Y’all. You need these in your life, trust and believe.

All in all, if you’re someone who lives a magical life, and who understands the idea of food as sacred — and thus, meal prep and consumption as a sacred act — you need to get your hands on a copy of The Magick of Food. It’s one of the best food-related books I’ve seen in ages, and I can already tell it’s going to be one I refer to on the regular.