their flocks? Traditionally, men and women of the cloth are perceived as pious beings who devote their entire lives to the work of God, with neither time nor thought for anything else. But as one clergyman pointed out: "We're human beings too. We have other interests.'' Today, we continue our series about the clergy and their hobbies, in which we go behind the collars and learn about their favourite pastimes.

Soul is Rev. Silvester Beaman's business.

As pastor of St. Paul's African Methodist Episcopal church, he tends to the spiritual welfare of his flock six days a week, but on the seventh -- Thursdays -- he often turns to soul of another kind: Afro-American soul food.

Although the eloquent New Yorker enjoys many styles of cuisine, Afro-American remains a favourite.

"I interpret soul food as American cuisine with a southern flair,'' he explained. "It is the spices, and the way it is prepared.'' Growing up in Niagara Falls as the middle child in a family of nine, Rev.

Beaman acquired an early fascination for the kitchen.

"My mother was a great cook, as was my grandmother before her, and when she was cooking or baking I would just go into the kitchen and watch. I really enjoyed that, it was so relaxing,'' the pastor recalled.

But the curious youngster wasn't prepared to relax forever. At the age of ten he decided it was time to make his mark.

During the summer vacation, choosing a day when everybody was out of the house, young Silvester prepared a surprise which was to prove a turning point in his life.

"My mother was working and most of my brothers and sisters had summer jobs. I wanted to impress my mother, so when the family came home I had prepared a whole meal for all 11 of us. I don't remember how it tasted but I've been cooking ever since and I really enjoy it,'' he said.

Indeed, as a graduate student at the Boston School of Theology, the trainee pastor was also much sought-after for his cooking skills.

"I had my own kitchen in the residence, and every day one of the seminarians cooked the main meal for 13 people. It was a great ethnic community because our group included two Koreans, three African-Americans, a guy from the west coast of Texas and a New Yorker who was somewhat of a Greenwich Village bohemian.

"We couldn't spend more than $25 a day for the meal, but we were all good cooks and we had some fantastic meals. We ate everything from chili con carne to gourmet spaghetti, duck and Cornish game hens.'' Like most bachelors, Rev. Beaman's cooking came at a price -- plenty of mess left in the kitchen. It wasn't until he married his wife, Renee, that he learned how to clean up his act.

"To me the mess was simply the end result of cooking. What I brought out for people to eat was more important because they never went into the kitchen.

However, my wife taught me to wash up as I went along, and to throw things like eggs shells right in the garbage. Now, when we are finished cooking, our cleaning up responsibilities are minuscule.'' In turn, Rev. Beaman helped his new wife to "broaden her menu'', and today the devoted pair work happily as a team in the kitchen.

"We cook together a lot,'' the clergyman said. "It depends on the recipe. If it is her specialty then I am the second-in-command. One thing we don't do is look in each other's pots, and we don't tell each other how to make a meal.'' Whereas in the early stages of their marriage, Rev. Beaman cooked more than his wife because she was a nursing supervisor who worked shifts, today his ministerial duties have grown so much that Mrs. Beaman tends to do more of the day to day cooking.

Thursdays, however, are special. Anyone approaching the rectory then would hear loud music emanating from the house and a host of tantalising smells wafting through the air, for that is the day Rev. Beaman sets aside to cook for his family while preparing his head to write the Sunday sermon.

"Thursdays are almost a ritual,'' he related. "I do the preparation for the sermon all during the week but on Thursday, when I actually put the manuscript together, I get up, do the household chores, and then I cook.

"I must have music when I'm cooking because it stimulates me. I usually have it blaring, and I particularly like big bands and pipe organ music.

"Generally, by 2 p.m. I have finished cooking, my head is cleared, and I am in the proper frame of mind to start working on the manuscript of my sermon.

When my wife arrives home after her working day, the aroma of my cooking greets her in the yard.'' An avid reader, Rev. Beaman enjoys Gourmet magazine and cookbooks as much as he does serious literature, yet he cooks "by heart''.

"You can give me any recipe and I can generally cook it by the seat of my pants. I use no printed recipes -- it's all trial and error over the years,'' he explained. "I have gone to restaurants, tasted something, and duplicated it at home. That influence comes from my mother, whom I never once saw using a cookbook.'' In any case, Rev. Beaman believes recipes, as such, are "flat''. "Every cook adds his own panache and pizzazz to them,'' he explained.

Citing Bermuda fish chowder as a case in point, the pastor threw out this bait: "I would like to learn how to make fish chowder -- but from someone who is a great chowder maker. I would have to be there to watch them make it.'' Indeed, one of the delights of this amateur cook's tour of duty here has been the discovery that so many local men are "just great cooks''.

Yet it is to a female member of his congregation that Rev. Beaman has turned to learn the art of making cakes.

"The lady is a member of the congregation and bakes magnificently,'' her pastor revealed. "She is my coach and has taught me how to bake gingerbread.

Everybody tells me it's pretty good. I'm going to graduate to pound cake next, which they tell me is easier than gingerbread.'' Before the baking "course,'' Rev. Beaman confined himself to appetisers and main courses. Although he likes curries and pasta, he doesn't make them too often because his wife doesn't share those tastes.

Fond of ethnic cooking, the reverend is currently mastering Chinese cuisine.

Visits to a local restaurant include chats with the chef, of whom he asks "a million questions''.

"The key is a good wok,'' Rev. Beaman said. "Once you get the proportions internalised, the cooking of Chinese food is very simple,'' he said.

Watching TV chefs is another avenue of learning, with Cajun cook Justin Wilson being one favourite.

"But I tone down his spices because my wife doesn't like a lot of spice,'' the pastor noted.

Ask Rev. Beaman what form of cooking he likes best, however, and the and the answer comes swiftly: barbecuing.

"It is my very, very favourite. I love to barbecue, and I do it all year round. That is one of the greatest things about living in Bermuda. I also have my own secret recipes and sauces.'' And no, he doesn't share them -- ever.

Preparing traditional holiday meals gives this clergyman special pleasure.

Again, it is a shared task with his wife -- as are meals for invited guests, when the menus are often a mix of ethnic cuisines.

"In fact, the only time cooking is not a joint effort is when I have a meeting at the church,'' he said proudly.

A devoted husband -- he and Mrs. Beaman were high school sweethearts, and recently celebrated 17 years of being together -- and father of Asaiah and Kori, he regards cooking as "a family enterprise''.

"Although I may cook the meal, it is my whole family who will sit down and enjoy it. A lot of life's lessons are taught around the table, so while cooking is one of my hobbies, it also keeps me with my family. There are so many hobbies which take an individual away from the family. Cooking isn't like that because it will always bring the family together.'' SOUL EXPERIENCE -- Rev. Silvester Beaman prepares a special meal for his family. The pastor uses his music-filled, Thursday morning cooking sessions to prepare himself for writing his sermons.