The best thing about being a kitchen witch and practicing food magick is that you can do it every day. Magick and cooking are so easily intertwined that the magick can happen in plain sight and yet never be discovered. Here are a few of my favourite everyday food magick spells.
The Salmon of Wisdom: Salmon with Hazelnut Topping
In the Welsh tale of Cerridwen, Gwion Bach transforms into a salmon and swims in the deep pools, gaining knowledge of the watery realms. Irish lore tells us of an ordinary salmon who feasted on nine hazelnuts and gained all the wisdom there was to know. Offerings of fish were made to the Sumerian god Enki, the god of water and of wisdom. Clearly there’s something about fish and wisdom.
More recently, modern science has shown solid correlations between eating a diet high in omega-3 fatty acids, found in fish, and good brain health.
This recipe doubles as a spell for your health (or the health of the people you love). Along with the fish, there are herbs long associated with memory and wisdom, like lemon balm, which grows practically everywhere.
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Serves 4 |
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4 salmon fillets (if you're using frozen fillets, make sure they are thawed before cooking) |
1/4 teaspoon pepper |
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1 teaspoon lemon balm, finely chopped |
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1/2 cup toasted hazelnuts |
3 tablespoons olive oil |
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1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs |
1 lemon |
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1/2 teaspoon salt |
1 tablespoon honey |
If you’re unfamiliar with cooking fish, let me start by saying that this recipe is really simple. The trick to cooking fish is timing. Most folks overcook fish, and overcooked fish is dry and bland, no matter what herbs and spices you put on it. Make sure that your salmon is fresh or, if frozen, fully thawed before you start cooking.
Another tip: preheat your oven for at least 10 minutes before you put the salmon in to cook. I know a lot of people see the instruction “preheat your oven” and read it as “turn your oven on and put food in it right away.”
Preheat your oven to 375° F. While the oven is heating, pour the hazelnuts into a sealable bag and bash them silly with a rolling pin, so they are all crushed up. Alternatively, you can put them in a food processor and pulse them, but bash them with a rolling pin! It’s more fun. Pour the crushed nuts into a bowl and add the breadcrumbs, salt, pepper, and lemon balm. Mix until combined and then add the olive oil, stirring the whole time. The mixture should become a bit clumpy and sticky. This is perfect. You’ll be topping the salmon fillets with this paste in a few minutes.
Slice the lemon in half and squeeze the juice from one half into a bowl. Add the honey and mix the two ingredients together. Using a basting brush, paint the salmon with the honey and lemon drizzle. Then top the fillets with the hazelnut mixture. Use the back of a spoon to pat the mixture down a little bit to coat the fillets.
By now your oven should be good and warmed, so put the four salmon fillets on a lightly oiled baking tray (or you can use parchment paper) and cook for 20 minutes. The hazelnut mixture should be golden brown and the salmon will be flaky.
Serve with a fresh green salad, lightly tossed with oil and vinegar. Quarter the remaining half of the lemon so folks can squeeze it over their salad and fish. While you’re eating, tell stories about times when you learned something. Maybe a hard-won lesson, or one of those lovely “aha!” moments. Share your wisdom and your memories. If you’re a fan of mythology, read the tale of Gwion Bach and put your thumb in your mouth just once during the meal, like Gwion did. You never know what you might learn!
The Thermos of Gratitude: A Spell with Bone Broth
Once upon a time, when I when was very young person, my dad would take me fishing. It was frequently cold and often raining. Such are the woes of angling in England. He’d pull out a thermos flask, pour the contents into a cup, and I’d take a few tentative sips of the steaming, thick, brown but almost black liquid. The beefy, salty concoction would instantly warm my mouth and, soon thereafter, my toes, my ears, and the tip of my nose. Every part of me was warmed through and through and the grey skies and my wet socks seemed much less of an inconvenience. I learned that the best part of fishing with my dad was hearing his stories and drinking “beef soup.” I’m inordinately grateful to my dad for his patience and skill and wise words. A cunning man if ever there was one. This recipe and spell are for him (and you, but you’ll need your own thermos!).
A few words about beef broth or bone broth or beef bone broth. First of all, bone broth isn’t really broth, it’s more like a good stock. Good beef stocks are made from vegetables and beef bones and tend to be pretty thick. Stocks get their rich flavours from time in the pot. Broths by comparison are thinner and are truly the product of just water and meat.
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This recipe makes a lot |
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Cooking Time: |
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3 pounds beef bones (ask the meat department for soup bones) |
1 large yellow onion, peeled and roughly chopped |
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1 bay leaf |
1 tablespoon pepper |
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3 carrots, roughly chopped |
1 tablespoon vinegar (white or apple cider) |
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2 stalks of celery, roughly chopped and with the leaves left on |
1 notepad or journal (don't worry, you won't have to cook the journal) |
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12 brown mushrooms, halved |
12 cups water |
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6 cloves garlic, peeled and halved |
1 tablespoon salt |
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4 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce |
Preheat your oven to 450° F. Place the bones, which should be a good mix of knuckle bones, tail bones, and rib bones, onto a baking sheet or roasting pan and roast for 30 minutes. While the bones are roasting, chop the onion, carrots, celery, mushrooms, and garlic. Grab a stock pot, preferably 5 quarts or bigger. Toss the veggies, bay leaf, pepper, vinegar, and Worcestershire sauce into the stock pot over high heat. Give the ingredients a good stir and then leave on the heat just long enough for you to retrieve the bones from the oven and toss them in the pot too. Make sure you add any juices and brown bits that are on the baking tray too. Those are chock-full of flavour. Now add enough water to cover the bones and the vegetables. 12 cups of water usually does it for me, making sure there are at least a couple inches of space between the top of the water and the rim of the pot. Now add the salt.
Bring the whole thing to a boil. It takes a while for 12 cups of water to come to a boil, so clean your countertops, pour a nice glass of your favourite beverage, and grab your journal because there’s spell work to do.
Answer this question: Who are you grateful for? Get really detailed here. It doesn’t just have to be the obvious people; anyone that’s contributed to your comfort, your health, your home, your income, or your understanding of the world as it is today can make you feel grateful. Write them all down in your journal.
Next question: What are you grateful for about the building you live in? Again, really dig deep here. Is it safe? Is it beautiful? Close to schools? Affordable? Where your grandparents lived? The first place you moved to after that terrible breakup? Your coven meets here? Write down everything in your journal.
Third question: Who lived on this land before you? Did they build bridges or dig canals? Were they farmers? Did they live in this place for centuries or millennia before you? Do their lives and ways influence you today? Maybe their influence lies on in the names of places, the physical landscape, or the traditions you uphold. Write down what the ancestors of this place have created or sacrificed or gifted you.
Last question: What does the land provide for you? You might consider the land to be the place you inhabit, or the where your foods grow, or the fresh air you breathe, or the lakes and rivers you visit, or the gorgeous sunsets you see, or the tall trees around you. What does the land provide for you? Write all of this in your journal. Reflect upon it and add to your answers if more answers come.
By now, it’s probably a good time to check the water. If it’s boiling, go ahead and turn the pot down to a low simmer, then let it bubble away for 8 hours. If it’s not yet boiling, go back to your journal and write a little more. When you lift the lid, you’ll see a brownish foam forming on the top of the liquid. Get a wooden spoon and skim that off. You might have to do that a few times while the bone broth is cooking. You can continue to simmer the broth for up to 24 hours, but definitely give it at least 8 hours. It’s okay to turn the stove off and start again the next day, but please do refrigerate in between for food safety reasons.
The next bit can be awkward. You’ll need to strain the broth liquid into another pot. The best way is to put a new pot into the sink and pour the contents of the cooking pot through a sieve or colander. You’ll end up with a pot of broth and a colander full of bones and very mushy vegetables. Discard the vegetables and bones, leaving you with a pot full of bone broth. Put the pot of broth on your counter. There’s a little more to do yet.
Remember your journal entries? Get your biggest, most favourite mug. Fill it to the brim with hot, delicious bone broth. Open your journal and read aloud everything you are grateful for, every person you are grateful for. State aloud your gratitude for the land, the earth, the peoples that lived here, the cow that gave its bones to make your broth, the vegetables, and the folks that picked those vegetables. Give a nod of gratitude to every living being, rock, hill, teacher, mentor, friend, lover, goddess, or god that shapes who you are. And sip the broth. Notice that the broth you take in is more than just its components. Think of everyone and everything that has contributed to this broth. Drink more. You are transforming this simple beverage into a spell of gratitude, and it is transforming and nourishing you.
Oh! Then transfer the rest of the bone broth into sealable containers. You can keep it in the fridge for up to 5 days or the freezer for up to 3 months. A layer of gelatinous collagen (that’s fat to you and me) will form when the broth cools. You can skim that off before reheating the broth. Drinking the broth and repeating the spell daily is a lovely practice.
Keep ‘em Sweet: Honey Shortbread for Love
Be honest. The first spell you were asked to do by someone else was a love spell, right? Maybe the first spell you ever did for yourself was a love spell. Love, money, and protection are probably the three most commonly asked-for and performed spells. Interestingly enough, honey has long since been associated with offerings to the gods, the Fairy Folk, and use in magickal spells across many cultures. Honey is frequently an ingredient in love, money, and protection spells. Using honey as an ingredient in a food spell or ritual offering is one practice that truly is ancient. Sumerian clay tablets dating back five millennia record honey, milk, and butter being given as ritual offerings to the gods in the Sumerian pantheon.
As a food witch, the ingredients you choose to cook with and the intention you put into your food magick will certainly impact the results of your magick. “Keep ‘em sweet” could just as easily be a love spell, sweetening the love as you sweeten the cake. “Keep ‘em sweet” could entice someone to part ways with their money and give it to you. “Keep ‘em sweet” might soothe a person’s bad temper, thereby offering a little space, time, and protection. Your mileage may vary and so will your magickal ethics. But this spell is called “keep ‘em sweet: honey shortbread for love,” so let’s stick with that for now. Every time you add an ingredient or stir the mixture, say “let the sweetness of this food add to the sweetness of the relationship with my partner(s).”
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Serves 4 |
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4 tablespoons softened butter |
1/4 cup brown sugar |
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3 tablespoons honey |
1/4 cup powdered sugar |
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1 teaspoon vanilla extract |
1 cup all-purpose flour |
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1 teaspoon + 1/4 teaspoon lemon extract |
Preheat the oven to 350° F. Lightly grease a 9-inch springform pan with butter (or cooking spray, but I like butter best). Set the pan aside. Into a large mixing bowl, add the butter, cutting it into small slices. It’s important that the butter is soft, but not runny. If you take the butter out of the fridge 30 minutes before you need it, you should be just fine. Add 2 tablespoons of the honey, 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract, and 1 teaspoon of lemon extract to the butter. Pour in the brown sugar and the powdered sugar. Now it’s time to mix it all up, and the best way to do that is to use your hands (you can use a hand mixer if that’s easier for you too). I use my fingers to incorporate the ingredients together. The mix will look a little crumbly. If you are using a hand mixer, beat for about a minute. Add the flour, half a cup at a time, and beat it into the mixture too. Again, I like to use my hands, and I’m looking for the dough to be crumbly, without any obvious clumps of flour, sugar, or butter.
Take the crumbly dough and pour it into the greased pan. Flatten the dough down with the back of your hand or the back of a spoon, so it’s spread evenly throughout the tin, going right up to the edges. Prick the dough all over with a fork, nine times. Pop the pan into the oven for 30 minutes. Just before taking the shortbread out of the oven, pour the remaining honey and lemon extract into a small bowl and mix well.
Take the shortbread out of the oven and immediately paint the honey and lemon extract mix onto the hot shortbread. I like to paint heart shapes, or spell out the word love, or the name of the person(s) I want to be sweet with. The honey-lemon mixture isn’t actually that great for spelling or writing with, so this is more of an exercise of your magickal intention at work, rather than actual cake decorating. Let the whole thing cool for about 5 minutes and then remove the springform pan. Carefully, using a spatula, remove the shortbread to a serving plate and cut into eight slices with a pizza wheel or thin, sharp knife.
Make a lovely cup of tea or pour a tall glass of milk and enjoy your sticky, slightly chewy, slightly crumbly, lemony-sweet shortbread and talk about love with whomever you’re with. I highly recommend concentrating on fun, playful, flirty, sweet love, rather than, say, your deep and abiding love for all humanity. Oh! And have seconds, thirds even, if you’re feeling sassy.