There’s something about cooking dinner that I really enjoy. I’m not sure what it is—planning the menu, looking through the cupboards, figuring out what I can make, chopping vegetables, or using all of my senses. Whatever it may be, one of the reasons is it signifies the day is ending.
When I was working full-time, cooking dinner was the way I marked that it was time to stop. This can be a difficult thing when your place of work is your home, but for some reason preparing a meal helped create that boundary. Now, it has lots of holes in it. (In fact, I’m writing this from my laptop in the kitchen.) I’ve taken multi-tasking to a new level—cooking, writing and care taking.
There also was a time that I carefully planned dinner because I saw it as a pre-workout meal for early morning workout sessions. Now, I make what sounds good (thank you Food Network) and eat according to my hunger. I still workout early, but I don’t depend on dinner to fuel it.
Ultimately, if I really had to say why dinner is my favorite meal, it would be because it’s the one I share with family and friends the most—whether it’s Sunday night dinner or meeting friends at The Border Grill or sitting down each evening to enjoy it with my husband. The latter is a ritual I hope to continue as Baby A gets older. When I was a kid, I ate dinner in my room in front of the television. (LOTS of Brussel sprouts got flushed down the toilet.) It was a bit lonely. Instead, I want him to experience dinner as it is intended—a fun, social and tasty close of a day.