Front Porch: Homemade family meal packed with values

Why aren’t we cooking at home?

Oh sure, some of us still are, but for many of us who think we are, that means throwing a frozen something into the microwave and plopping it on the counter and consuming it while we engage in some task on the day’s to-do list.

No, this isn’t a rant about the fast-food industry or processed foods. Who doesn’t love an occasional grease-fest? But there’s something about cooking meals regularly that simply needs to happen, and it needs to happen a lot more than it does.

So sayeth the opinionated writer of this column. And just about everybody who has ever written on the subject.

There’s a TV show called “Blue Bloods” in which a multigenerational family gathers for Sunday dinner once in each episode. Tom Selleck, star of the show, has spoken about how this scene is the biggest draw for many viewers. While the reality of the Sunday family dinner is a phantom or perhaps a distant memory for most of us, clearly there is a nostalgia and longing for it out there.

A home-cooked dinner together with Mom and Dad and the kids – or whoever makes up your family – even five nights a week, where is that happening? I understand that if you live alone, cooking is not a joy, nor is it easy to purchase fresh ingredients designed for single meals, but it’s still so much better for you, foodwise and mental healthwise.

For a society so enamored of cooking shows, celebrity chefs, beautiful cookbooks – why are we observers and not participants?

I just don’t buy the rationale that life is too busy, that people have too many conflicting schedules and that the modern family just isn’t configured anymore for family dinners. Of all the “extras” you provide for your children – ballet lessons, sports teams and the whole list – I don’t understand why the most enriching thing you can do shouldn’t be cooking their supper (and maybe having them help) and dining together with them. You don’t even have to be good at it. Kids are happy with pretty simple fare.

If you value it, you do it. It saddens me to conclude that too many of us really don’t care that much about the quality of the food our families eat, not really, nor the closeness that a shared meal brings to a family.

And for those who say it costs more to eat from-scratch meals, that eating healthier is for the solidly middle class – no, it costs less to prepare food in your house than it does to eat out or bring home foods prepared by someone else (fast food is fast, not cheap, and the ingredients are a mystery). What’s true is that good and fresh foods aren’t readily available in many low-income areas – another topic for another day.

I cooked pretty much daily while my family was growing up; I continue to do it today. And, please take my word, I am no superwoman, no martyr, no saint and no master chef. I find the time to cook because it’s better for my family, because I can monitor the ingredients, because I value the time together around the table and because a long time ago I decided to make it a priority.

It’s not like it’s been easy or that I had nothing but time on my hands. There were soccer games, music lessons, play rehearsals, help with a little side business we started, my own job and our version of all the things that families deal with – all needing to be juggled. Plus there were the years when my father-in-law lived with us after his stroke, when my husband managed his father’s physical care and also worked and I handled his bills and special dietary needs.

I will concede that some of the meals over the years were an improbable conglomeratation of whatever was in the vegetable crisper and cupboard at the time. And, yes, I carved out time – often with wriggly boys in the shopping cart – to shop ahead, sometimes cook ahead and sometimes prepare breakfast for dinner. Note: The egg is the best friend a harried cook can have.

But there’s something about chatting about everything and nothing at the dinner table – with smartphones, tablets and the like turned off – that is pure family gold. If you haven’t gathered at the table in a while, eating a meal over which you exercised quality control, actual conversation might feel forced and weird at first, but hang in there – it’s worth it.

And sure, bring home a guilt-free pizza from time to time. Nobody wants you to be so crazed about it all that you fall over into a pile of romaine hearts.