| Orchestrating a Civilized Meal For the Uncivilized |
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| Written by Sue Mahar | |
| Thursday, 08 January 2009 | |
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It is very hard to get a young family to the table for a civilized dinner, but despite the challenges it presents, the effort is made, for whatever it is worth. Preparing an everyday sit-down-dinner is out of the question in these modern times, but I do manage to get my nuclear family to the table several times a week. One such day, I planned a hearty turkey dinner with all the trimmings. There had been a few too many days of hastened chicken nuggets and pizza, and I knew we all would benefit from a traditional, sensory enriching wholesome meal. As I planned a traditional dinner of fresh turkey, homemade gravy, sausage and apple stuffing, jellied cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, seasoned vegetables, biscuits and apple pie, I imagined the praise I would receive for filling the house with enticing aromas prompting ravenous appetites and lively conversation at the dinner table. In addition, I thought how we could relive the experience with next-day leftovers. The turkey was washed and prepared for an afternoon of roasting while the side dishes were set aside to cook within an hour before serving. With the dinner timed perfectly, I decided to focus on the table setting. People with young children will know, fancy table settings give way to practicality and convenience. Perhaps it was the intoxicating smells of a roasting dinner, but I chose to embellish the table setting with a centerpiece and candlesticks, and by introducing my kids to glasses, instead of plastic cups with lids, and to fanned cloth napkins perched on plates. The table was set, and dinner was cooking. So far, so good. At this point, I am wondering why we don't do this more often. Then, the family came home. Up until this point, I was in a quiet house, creating a brief existence of sophistication and grace. Within minutes of coming home, my children had complained they were not going to like the dinner, even though it smelled so good. My husband kicked off his shoes, unwittingly leaving them in the middle of the kitchen floor, and the cat awoke from his nap, slinking into the room with one eye on the awaiting turkey platter. Not letting this sway me too far off from my goal to have a somewhat elegant, traditional family dinner, I assure the children they will enjoy the meal, and remind them that they are to try new things. I sent them off to wash their hands and request my husband take note of where he left his shoes. Back on track, I prepare the vegetables and biscuits as the warm, savory turkey sat on the carving board. While washing their hands, the two children competed for the soap, the stream of running water and for room on the step stool while standing at the sink. Their voices grew louder as the scene escalated. I intervened, offering simple solutions to sharing; reminding them this was a task to get clean, not loud. Now, back to the dinner preparations. I carved the turkey, seasoned the vegetables, dished the chilled the cranberry sauce and filled the glasses with wholesome, organic milk. With the steam still rising on a ready to serve meal, I called everyone to the table with a two-minute notice. The kitchen counter was cluttered with cutting boards, knives, spoons, pots, pans, spilled flour, splattered gravy, seasonings and recipe cards. I turned my back on it to face the beautifully arranged table, long waiting for an idyllic gathering and family feast. But the beautifully arranged table was not as I had left it. Enamored by the new additions to the table setting, the kids were kneeling in their chairs, reaching for the (unlit) candlesticks and picking at the centerpiece. Seeing how quickly things could unravel before me, I decided to take this as the opportunity to teach them some new table manners. "We do not kneel at the table, leave the centerpiece alone, never touch candles and put your napkin on you lap." They respond,” What’s a centerpiece? Can we light the candles? I want to blow them out. No, I want to blow them out! Is THIS my NAPKIN? Why do I have to put it n my lap?, Why do we have REAL glasses? Can I have chocolate milk? What's that? I HATE that! Can I have chicken nuggets? All they had to do was arrive, appreciatively to the specially decorated table with clean hands and appetite. But, instead, (This is a story in the works - please excuse the time it takes to finish, but a story this good requires my full attention, which I strive to provide) . |
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