…eats more nutritious meals together.
So saith the NY Times. Research indicates that families who eat a regular meal together—be they troubled or un, and their ubiquitous TVs on or off—are eating better, as well.
No one knows quite why, although researchers have tried to control for the obvious possibility that families who eat together are different in additional ways from those who don’t. It would be instructive to see what would happen if one could take families who don’t ordinarily eat together and assign half of them to do so, and then measure the differences between the two groups. Of course, in that instance there might be some subtle differences between families who comply with the order and those who don’t, and this could affect the findings.
That’s the way social science research tends to be: sketchy. I know; it’s a field in which I’ve worked.
But what interests me most about this particular article is the topic of the family meal itself, and its devolution over time. When I was growing up, the evening meal was nearly sacred in almost every family I knew. It happened at a certain appointed hour, and one violated the call to table at one’s peril.
In my family, when my father came home from work at 6 PM, dinner was placed on the table, and woe to the child who hadn’t come in from playing outside, or who was unfindable. The food itself was plain but tasty and well-balanced, and we were expected to at least sample a bit of everything. And if we didn’t like what was served that night, tough. It was understood we wouldn’t starve if most of a single meal was skipped.
I had trouble with, of all things, steak. The vegetarian option so many girls take nowadays wasn’t common back then, so it really didn’t occur to me to stop eating it even if such a thing had been allowed, which it wasn’t.
But worst of all was a dish one almost never sees nowadays, and mercifully so: tongue. Continue reading →