This panel brings together voices through methodological perspectives and across varied academic trajectories. Gendered religious expression ties together the first two papers, across public and private spaces: The first paper examines evangelical Christian women baristas' reconfiguration of sacred space through coffee culture, while the second paper explores the nuances of Muslim women’s culinary practices in Ottoman contexts. The next two papers cut across public and private spaces in the contexts of forest-field and prison: the penultimate paper examines Jewish environmental activism through eco-kosher practices of a well-known Jewish charitable organization, and finally, the last paper critically reflects on the freedom and obligation required by food justice, bumping up against the context of mass incarceration. Collectively, these presentations illuminate how religious foodways shape—and are shaped by—the ethics of relationship as it pertains to family, gender, society, species, and ecology.
Small towns and big cities alike witness the phenomenon of the independent café that is either supported by a local church or was created to meet many of the functions of a parish church – a place for meeting, study and prayer. But, increasingly, some evangelical Christian women – who eschew formal leadership roles for women in their congregations and micro-denominations – theorize themselves as celebrating the “sacrament of the people” through their coffee service. This paper marshals years of ethnographic research to analyze why and how female coffeehouse owners and baristas construct alternative sacred sites and popular priesthoods that are tolerated within their own gender schemas. Coffee becomes a central mediator of gendered authority for evangelical Christian women.
Scholarship on food, gender, and religion remains marked by historical male dominance and the marginalization of women’s practices. In communities like the Tablighi Jama‘at, women’s culinary roles are framed as religious obligations, often limiting their spiritual engagement. Sermons discourage excessive time spent on cooking, yet these same roles are enforced as pious behavior. Ottoman-era reforms tied women’s identity to kitchen work, further solidifying their domestic roles. Scholars like Darakhshan Khan and Parna Sengupta reveal how food-related rituals, often overseen by male authority, are central to religious women’s lives. Yet, these practices are rarely recognized as legitimate religious knowledge. Broader scholarship could illuminate the power dynamics that confine women to food-centered roles and empower them within their traditions. By bridging religious, gendered, and culinary intersections, such research could foster mutual understanding and pave the way for greater gender equality within religious communities.
The environmental nonprofit organization, Adamah, named after the Hebrew word adamah meaning “soil” or “earth,” regularly engages with foodways in an effort to help Jews live more sustainably. Adamah offers educational resources on making shabbat and seder meals more ecologically-feasible, as well as advocates for just food options year round. Their programs include community supported agriculture, retreats featuring vegan food, and educational materials on sustainable food systems. Through Adamah’s Farm And Forest School, participants gain hands-on experience with organic agriculture. Adamah asserts that growing food is part of climate action. I seek to answer, how does Jewish environmentalism and eating eco-kosher coincide in the work of the nonprofit Adamah?
What does food justice in an era of mass incarceration require of us? As I come to argue, putting criminal justice and food justice in conversation benefits both. By highlighting the indispensable part food plays not only in well-being, but also in identity and community, food justice teaches criminal justice to see better some of the most serious threats posed by incarceration. Meanwhile, by highlighting the conflicting interests at the heart of ethics and political philosophy, criminal justice urges food justice to make its moral theory (or theories) explicit in order to judge better what we owe incarcerated individuals as well as those they have harmed. In the end, I argue that we all, incarcerated and unincarcerated alike, have pro tanto positive rights not only to food security, but also to food autonomy, if not also to food sovereignty.