At my dad's house it was buffet style every night. Pots on the stove, take your plate up and take some of everything whether you like it or not (or else you'd get an ear full about being ungrateful). We'd sit down to the the bare table and try to be quiet (children should be seen and not heard especially girls). When everyone was done, the kids cleaned up the kitchen.
During visits to moms house it was more fun. We were allowed to eat most breakfasts and lunches at the tv, and dinners were exotic! Crepes, Greek food, interesting frozen foods that I didn't know existed outside my mom's place. Her kitchen was always clean.
Even though they were three completed different styles of eating, it was all family time sitting together for a meal every single night. Even though my mom worked long hours and my dads wife worked too, dinner was sacred. No extra curricular activities interfered with the dinner. Sometimes it had to be early or later than usual, but it always happened.
Going to a restaurant was only for special occasions and take out almost never happened.
I hear that the ritual of family dinners is getting rare. Not in this house! Thankfully my husband also was raised on home cooked dinners (his mom is a homemaker), so it was agreed very early in the relationship that dinner time is our together time. Having kids didn't change that, in fact it reinforced it. In this day and age of everyone watching a different screen at night and the disjointed hobbies, the time to sit and face each other and talk with no agenda except eating together is so very precious to me as a parent. Hopefully they will be able to continue this sacred tradition when they start their own families.
From the bottom of my heart, I think eating a meal together that has been prepared at home creates a bond that lasts. I think it's healthy not just because it's home made, but because it's time spent nourishing each other. The act of making the food and hearing and smelling it being made primes the brain for this together time. And if they aren't home when I'm making dinner, they still anticipate the time they should be home and know we expect them to be with us and rely on their participation to make it a family meal. That's got to be comforting! I know in hindsight it was for me.
As I got older (16 or so), I had work that would keep me away some nights. It felt weird and slightly lost to come home after dinner was over and cleared away. Then my sister moved out early to live with mom and the dinner table felt like it was missing a vital piece. Then my dad started cancer treatments and would be gone often, then just gone. :(
In short, the house stopped being a home when we stopped eating as a family. It became just where I slept, ate and kept my stuff. That made it easier to move out I guess, but not nice.
I don't know why I suddenly felt nostalgic about the kitchen table...
Here's a salute to the cooks of the home! May your meals bring the people you love together, not just on special occasions but on every day of the year!
