In my family, the ritual of dinner together is our magnetic north.
When I first started this family dinner mission, I joked that I was getting our daughters used to the idea at such a young age, so that when they grew into eye-rolling, holed-up-in-their-bedroom high schoolers, they'd be so programmed to report to the table at 7:00 p.m. that even teenage stubbornness wouldn't stop them.
I'm pleased to report that this actually worked. Even when we are stuck in the house together all day, even if they don't stick around longer than it takes to inhale their chicken tacos, it feels good to feed them.
So good, it turns out, that I’ve been documenting this practice on my blog Dinner: A Love Story for 10 years now. Here are three important lessons I’ve learned about this ritual — and how to make it happen.