agic Moments... An Essay for the "Memorable Moments at Dinner" Contest
August 15, 2008 11:22 AM EDT (Updated: August 15, 2008 01:04 PM EDT)
views: 1595 | comments: 15
I remember many magical moments around my family's dinner table. I grew up sharing most meals with my mom and dad, and four brothers and sisters, and many with two great-grandmas, one great-grandpa, two grandmothers and a grandpa. We lived within a few miles of most of them, and saw them regularly. Birthdays and holidays were huge, fun-packed events, but just as special were the everyday meals shared after dad came in from the fields, sometime not until after dark, during planting and harvest.
When you sat down to the supper table at our house, you got an earful as well as a tummy-full. Teasing, fighting, poking, jabbing, praying, sharing - you name it, it happened around our table.
Cousins, aunts and uncles, neighbors and friends were also frequent guests around our table. Cooking was a non-stop job for my mom, me (I was the oldest daughter) and anyone else who was around to help. Casseroles were made in very big pans and we had a lot of extra leaves to put in the table when company came.
As part of a big family, there had to be a few rules when it came to mealtime. We were taught to always pass the food to company first, except in the case of one young man who was known to take more than his fare share. The new rule, made especially for him, was that whoever was sitting next to him should pick up the casserole, take their portion, and pass it in the opposite direction. When it returned to him, he could have whatever was left over and no one else would go hungry.
One of my grandmas also had a "rule" when it came to eating at her house -- you had to come out even. If you were eating roast beef with potatoes and gravy, you had to finish them both at the same time. If you finished your potatoes and still had some roast beef, then you would have to have a few more potatoes to go with your roast, and so on and so on until you came out even.
Grandma raised her family during the depression, and during those lean years, they often ate meals consisting of pigs weed, dandelions, and graham crackers bought in bulk. They raised chickens, but selling the eggs was the only way they had to get cash, so the family didn't eat the chickens or the eggs. Having enough food to "come out even" was her way of enjoying the bounty they were blessed with in later years. Anyway, Grandma was a large woman, I'm sure due in part to her "coming out even" philosophy of eating, but she lived to be a hundred years old. At her funeral, the church we went to served a full dinner, and at the end, continued to pass around heaping platefuls of her favorite cookies and big bowls of ice cream until everyone had enough food to "come out even".
My rich heritage of cooking for and eating with family and friends carried over into my adult life, too. I loved to entertain and have company and always had dinner on the table when my husband came home from work. When I divorced in my late twenties, I was still childless. One of the hardest things for me to adapt to was eating my meals alone. Besides being lonely, cooking for one was just no fun! On holidays, when I couldn't afford to fly home and be with my family, I invited other displaced singles and couples over for potluck Thanksgiving dinners.
When I finally remarried some 20 years later, I was delighted to have someone to sit down and eat with once again. Our marriage was made in heaven and I was thrilled to be a part of a family again... except for one little glitch... a 13 year old stepson who had very ambivalent feelings about his dad having a new wife.
For weeks, I struggled to find a way to win him over. Between his teenage hormones and my menopausal ones, there were some very tense moments.... except around the supper table...
It seems that my cooking truly was the way to this little man's heart. Knowing that I had prepared something special for the three of us to eat, no matter how simple or easy, seemed to impress him, and more importantly, convince him that I cared. He would help set the table, and seemed to like and appreciate everything I fixed.
At the end of the school year, his art teacher sent home several drawings that he had made. One of them was a painting of the three of us sitting around the supper table.
I'm a firm believer that the most magical moments in the lives of many families occur around the supper table. If your family has gotten away from this tradition, I would encourage you to try sitting down and eating together - you never know what might happen!
agic Moments... An Essay for the "Memorable Moments at Dinner" Contest
August 15, 2008 11:22 AM EDT (Updated: August 15, 2008 01:04 PM EDT)
views: 1595 | comments: 15
I remember many magical moments around my family's dinner table. I grew up sharing most meals with my mom and dad, and four brothers and sisters, and many with two great-grandmas, one great-grandpa, two grandmothers and a grandpa. We lived within a few miles of most of them, and saw them regularly. Birthdays and holidays were huge, fun-packed events, but just as special were the everyday meals shared after dad came in from the fields, sometime not until after dark, during planting and harvest.
When you sat down to the supper table at our house, you got an earful as well as a tummy-full. Teasing, fighting, poking, jabbing, praying, sharing - you name it, it happened around our table.
Cousins, aunts and uncles, neighbors and friends were also frequent guests around our table. Cooking was a non-stop job for my mom, me (I was the oldest daughter) and anyone else who was around to help. Casseroles were made in very big pans and we had a lot of extra leaves to put in the table when company came.
As part of a big family, there had to be a few rules when it came to mealtime. We were taught to always pass the food to company first, except in the case of one young man who was known to take more than his fare share. The new rule, made especially for him, was that whoever was sitting next to him should pick up the casserole, take their portion, and pass it in the opposite direction. When it returned to him, he could have whatever was left over and no one else would go hungry.
One of my grandmas also had a "rule" when it came to eating at her house -- you had to come out even. If you were eating roast beef with potatoes and gravy, you had to finish them both at the same time. If you finished your potatoes and still had some roast beef, then you would have to have a few more potatoes to go with your roast, and so on and so on until you came out even.
Grandma raised her family during the depression, and during those lean years, they often ate meals consisting of pigs weed, dandelions, and graham crackers bought in bulk. They raised chickens, but selling the eggs was the only way they had to get cash, so the family didn't eat the chickens or the eggs. Having enough food to "come out even" was her way of enjoying the bounty they were blessed with in later years. Anyway, Grandma was a large woman, I'm sure due in part to her "coming out even" philosophy of eating, but she lived to be a hundred years old. At her funeral, the church we went to served a full dinner, and at the end, continued to pass around heaping platefuls of her favorite cookies and big bowls of ice cream until everyone had enough food to "come out even".
My rich heritage of cooking for and eating with family and friends carried over into my adult life, too. I loved to entertain and have company and always had dinner on the table when my husband came home from work. When I divorced in my late twenties, I was still childless. One of the hardest things for me to adapt to was eating my meals alone. Besides being lonely, cooking for one was just no fun! On holidays, when I couldn't afford to fly home and be with my family, I invited other displaced singles and couples over for potluck Thanksgiving dinners.
When I finally remarried some 20 years later, I was delighted to have someone to sit down and eat with once again. Our marriage was made in heaven and I was thrilled to be a part of a family again... except for one little glitch... a 13 year old stepson who had very ambivalent feelings about his dad having a new wife.
For weeks, I struggled to find a way to win him over. Between his teenage hormones and my menopausal ones, there were some very tense moments.... except around the supper table...
It seems that my cooking truly was the way to this little man's heart. Knowing that I had prepared something special for the three of us to eat, no matter how simple or easy, seemed to impress him, and more importantly, convince him that I cared. He would help set the table, and seemed to like and appreciate everything I fixed.
At the end of the school year, his art teacher sent home several drawings that he had made. One of them was a painting of the three of us sitting around the supper table.
I'm a firm believer that the most magical moments in the lives of many families occur around the supper table. If your family has gotten away from this tradition, I would encourage you to try sitting down and eating together - you never know what might happen!
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