"What is it with witches and cannibalism?"
(Sabrina Spellman)

 

What's a coven to do?

We're pagans. We don't just like to eat; food is central to our religion. Maintaining a spiritual connection with our food sources lies at the very heart of who we are, how we see things, and what we do.

So, when we get together, we eat. Therein lies the rub.

In our coven of eight, we've got one vegetarian (me), one fishetarian, and six more-or-less practicing omnivores, but that's the easy part. We've also got numerous allergies, sensitivities, and just plain don't likes. How to accommodate everyone?

When I'm thinking about what to bring to the (ahem) cauldron-luck, I'd like to be able to feed as many as possible, so I try to bring dishes without major allergens. But once you add in all the “don't likes,” acceptable foods begin to vanish mathematically with each person that we add to the group.

So, in our usual pragmatic way, we've settled on two coven food policies:

  • Bring what you want to eat. I figure that, as the group vegetarian, I have no right to complain that there's no vegetarian entree if I didn't bring one.
  • Full disclosure. If what you bring contains something that someone doesn't eat, or can't eat, let us know.

Then, of course, there's the perennial problem with coven cauldron-lucks: who's bringing the—ahem—hornless goat?

After all, they're hard to get, expensive, and—let's be frank here—an awful lot of work.

Well, in our group, we just take turns.