There is something unexpectedly sacred about sitting down to a prix fixe meal. Long before the first dish arrives, the experience offers an important invitation: slow down. Be here. The meal will unfold at its own pace. In a moment marked by choice, efficiency, and immediacy, a prix fixe menu moves at a different rhythm—one shaped by presence, patience, and delight. It creates, in a simple and tangible way, a place where we become more aware of our senses and the people sitting beside us.

The dining room table is the center of my home. It holds the constant reminder of the centrality of provision, welcome, and belonging nestled into the presence of God who is with me.

CAFE 180 is a sacred place. For fifteen years, this light‑filled corner cafe in Englewood has welcomed neighbors to share good food with gracious hospitality. The promise of the cafe is profound: the way a meal is served with dignity cultivates belonging. “We’ve been really careful to never change the way we serve people or the way we present food depending on how much someone’s paying for it,” says Sarah Lesyinski, Executive Director of One Good Turn, the parent organization of CAFE 180.

Small-scale organic farming in Colorado is demanding. The arid and often unpredictable climate is the first burden, followed by the challenging economics of land, water, and living costs. It is a path only the most passionate take, and a lifestyle few stick with year after year.

The grocery, market, or deli is the place of life where food is provided locally and personally. Eugene Peterson described his father’s occupation at the local butcher, “We were sacrificing animals all the time, so I thought of my dad as a priest. He acted like a priest and lived like one. He knew everyone’s name.” The grocery is a sacred place.