At the Table
Saturday night: I was cooking a
pretty fabulous dinner. Chicken
and mushrooms were braising slowly in a rich, garlic-peppercorn sauce.
Saffron risotto simmered along, absorbing more and more broth by the
cup-full. The smell of brownies wafted up from the oven. Then...
VOOP! The power went out in our apartment. The sizzling sounds quickly
faded to silence upon the electric stove-top.
This would have been a gastronomic tragedy; however, our current housing
above the camp kitchen permitted us to transport our pots and pans
downstairs to continue cooking the meal over propane.
God bless propane. If we have a real house someday, I so wish to have a propane stove!
The other alteration to our plans for the evening was that we ate at the
table, by candlelight, over a tablecloth, with clean, cloth napkins.
Our previous plan was to put food on the coffee table and hunch over it,
scarfing down dinner as we continued watching episodes of
Breaking Bad.
The candlelit dinner (with a nice Zinfandel) was a much better experience for my husband and me.
Sadly, the two of us often resign ourselves to eating in front of the
television. We blame our surroundings for watching television daily
(our home is very remote from friends, and it is too dang cold to play
outside!); and yet we look forward to beginning school next year, since
our work and new friends will keep us busy. We also talk about how we
don't want to watch television in the future when we have children, and
CERTAINLY don't want to eat dinner with them in the living room.
I hope to continue the tradition of family dinners. My parents had us stop homework or tv-watching
every night to sit at the table and eat together. They'd ask us what we learned at school (
"Nooothinnggg.")
and catch each other up on the events of the day. Little did I know
that this ritual was the foundation of our training as civilized
persons.
In our "grain-bag society," people eat anywhere, anytime they want.
It's why we have drive-thrus at fast-food establishments. It's why
people stuff their purses with granola bars and candies. It is this
ubiquitous eating that has taken away any sign of etiquette and communal enjoyment of meals.
As you head into your Thanksgiving family get-togethers, take time to
appreciate the effort put into the meal by the cook, the beautiful
place-settings, and the faces of those you love. Enjoy the
conversation, in addition to all that gravy!
All this has been brought to mind because I've been doing a little
reading about etiquette. A very convincing. witty book by Judith Martin
has been causing me to consider the implications of a "grain-bag
society," and how I'd rather implement solid training-in-eating to my
future children (forks and knives, not fingers). Read on for your
enlightenment and amusement:
