Marialisa Calta

BARBARIANS AT THE PLATE: TAMING AND FEEDING THE MODERN AMERICAN FAMILY

 

FAMILY MEALS: WHY BOTHER?

A CASE FOR THE FAMILY MEAL

"The appearance of food sharing marks the very turning point toward humanity by primates."

Mackenzie, Margaret, Ph.D., RN, "Is the Family Meal Disappearing?" Journal of Gastronomy, vol. 7 no 1, winter/spring 1993.

My neighbor Sarah Gallagher was putting the finishing touches on a weeknight dinner when her son Isaac, then 10 years old, wandered into the kitchen to claim his usual place at the well-worn table.

"Tyler," he said of a friend, "has lice."

There in a nutshell is one great reason for the family meal: the exchange of vital information.

There are many other great reasons: forming family traditions and passing down values; making an end-run around the fast-food corporations and their invasive marketing; providing better nutrition in an age of burgeoning health problems related to obesity; saving money. But the exchange of information is just as important. A friend of mine, the mother of teenagers, puts it this way:

"When else during the day," she asks, "do you get to look your kids in the eye and see if their pupils are dilated?" Vital information indeed.

It sounds like a simple thing, family dinner. Legions of cookbooks are devoted to making it simple: Meals made in 15 minutes; Meals made with four ingredients; Meals thrown into the slow cooker in the morning and ready for your delectation at night. So how come Americans, who in 1950 spent nearly five times as much money on meals at home as on meals away from home, in 2001 virtually split their food budget between eating at home and eating out? How come articles keep appearing on families eating separate meals, in the car, in front of the tube, in shifts? Why is it that this simple act of cooking and eating together is so hard?

The ugly truth is that cooking is work.

Many people seem surprised by this. It’s as if the last few generations have grown up believing that modern life should by rights include a "Rosie the Robot," the electronic maid in the old Jetsons cartoons: push a button on her torso and an entire turkey dinner appears. No one I know has a robotic Rosie, although I have read about people with personal chefs (and I hope they pay them well). The reality is that, no matter how you slice it, putting anything even vaguely homemade on the table requires shopping, prepping, cooking, setting the table, and cleaning up. And then, the next day, it starts all over.

The other ugly truth is this: Dining en famille can be a trying experience. There’s the whining, the fighting, the sulking, the picky eating...and that’s just the adults. Add small children and teenagers to the mix and, well, it can get pretty grim.

Then, if you do manage to cook, it’s not like everyone is sitting around the table saying "Thanks, Mom. Great meal!" Half the time the response is more like "eewwww" and "gross." The milk is spilled, your youngest refuses to use utensils, your partner is berating your oldest for a failure to focus on the soccer field, and your born-again vegan is lecturing you on the exploitation of animals, epitomized by the beef tacos.

It’s human nature to avoid what can be difficult and unpleasant. It’s no wonder that families are running to the fast food counter and the freezer section, and putting Domino’s on speed-dial. So why should we bother making and sharing family meals?

First, we should bother because, no matter what our schedules, incomes, or geographical location, we still have to eat. By one measure – quantity – Americans seem to be excelling at this: we eat 300-plus more calories a day than we did 20 years ago and experts tell us our waistlines are expanding proportionally. It’s clear that someone has to decide what to feed our families; if we don’t step up to the plate we are in essence leaving the decisions to processed-food corporations with multi-billion-dollar advertising campaigns. I would argue that the folks who put chocolate in frozen French fries, and who make squeezable margarine in shocking pink, may not have your family’s well-being in mind. But why should they? There job is to make money. Yours is to teach your kids that potatoes come in one flavor.

We should bother because cooking and eating together can teach us – among other things – cooperation, respect and patience. Because studies indicate that teenagers who eat dinner with their families at least five nights a week are less likely to take drugs or be depressed, and that they do better in school and in relationships. Because almost anything we cook ourselves is going to be more nutritious than something we buy in a frozen tray or at a drive-through window.

Some of us bother because we want to pass along our parents’ and grandparents’ culinary traditions so that our children will have a sense of their cultural identity. Others want to teach children a respect for the land and what it can produce, and a respect for the effort it takes to turn that produce into dinner. Some just want to make sure they hear about the lice.

The family meal gives parents the opportunity to learn how our kids are doing in school, a time to share joys and triumphs but also to explore the politics of the playground and the study hall. Family meals give kids a chance to hear about their parents’ lives. It gives them the opportunity to learn how to shape a story, or tell a joke. At the table, kids learn – not always pleasantly, or quickly, but they do learn – not to interrupt. They learn how to eat soup without slurping. They learn how to sit. They learn skills that will help them not just in school but in the rest of their lives. They learn, in short, how to be civilized.

Unless we make family dining a priority, we are in danger of becoming a nation of barbarians at the plate.

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