We tend to look at recipes as strangely disembodied, just as we overlook the food on the table in the many paintings of the Last Supper and neglect to imagine the invisible people who prepared it. Our attention is fixed on the company. Yet the loaves of bread and the platters of lamb are emblems of how much of reality is invisible to us. They have taken form in a kitchen. They may even have been cooked by Jesus’s follower Martha, the patron saint of housekeeping. The words “Take, eat, this is my body which is given up for you” are implicit in the bread that is to be broken, which has been kneaded, pounded, rolled, baked, and offered by the arms and hands of women, a physical prayer. The kitchen is the locus of death and resurrection in any house.