How well I remember trying to get dinner on the table when my children were young. There was something about 6 p.m. that made it "the witching hour" in our household.
Kids were cranky, I was tired and dad was arriving home from a long day at work, stressed-out and hungry.
If I managed to get something pulled together before we all fell apart, it was a minor miracle. Like Jean Shepherd's* mom from "A Christmas Story," I swear I went years without tasting hot food. And if we all managed to bolt down the calories before someone (possibly me) spilled their milk, threw a tantrum or starting racing around the dining room, it was a good night.
So I really feel for the mom who tried a noble experiment: One month of flash-frozen, takeout dinners versus then one month of "slow food" food.
Her conclusion: If eating real food is to become the goal, everyone needs to share in the task. Working women already do the vast majority of the housework. Making them feel more guilty because they don't also bake bread and make cheese is ridiculous.
Of course, now that my kids are out of the house, I have a lot more time to do things like bake, cook and garden. I've got some broccoli ready to harvest, in fact. Anybody know how to make broccoli soup that doesn't involve cream/milk, so my lactose-intolerant husband can enjoy it too?
(h/t to Paula for the link)
*If you haven't read Shepherd's books, they are fun, light and quintessentially American without being sappy. I'm a big fan.
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