Dinner Time

Dinner was a daily social event at our house.

Dad was usually home from work about six o'clock.  Mom would spend most of the afternoon preparing and cooking our evening meal.  First she would go out and shop for fresh produce and meat.  Peas had to be shelled, potatoes had to be peeled or scrubbed, and the meat or poultry or fish had to be trimmed and seasoned.  

We would sit down at the kitchen table and start with soup.  Home made split pea or cream of tomato, or sometimes canned chicken noodle or chicken with rice which Mom would embellish with her secret seasonings.

Then we would start on the main course.

Lee and I usually dominated the conversation at the dinner table.  We talked about the day's events.  We talked about new things we were learning at school, what we did after school, and things we saw in store windows that we coveted and could perhaps get for birthdays or Christmas. We talked about our friends and anything new we might have seen in their homes, or where they were going for holidays or vacations.

Dad would tell us about something that happened at work, or something he had heard about or read in his newspaper.

Mom usually just listened.

When we finished, Mom would clear the table, open the refrigerator, and set out our desserts.

We always had dessert.  Mom knew how to make exotic pudding and jello deserts that were twisted colors of delight.  Pink angel food cakes that melted in your mouth.  Floating Islands of sweet meringue and vanilla pudding.  Pies made from fresh apples or creamy lemon meringue made with real lemons.  Special pastries called butterflies she made with a  sweet, light batter deep fried in oil and sprinkled with powdered sugar.  Most of her desserts were always topped with real hand whipped cream.

She would go to refrigerator and bring out the individual plates, or bowls, or cups, filled with these sweet delights.  She would put them on the table in front of us and we would let our eyes feast over them for a few seconds before satisfying our taste buds.

But sometimes, usually on special occasions, Mom would go to her purse instead of the refrigerator.  Like Pavlov's dogs, Lee and I knew what that meant.  Eskimo Pies!

She would hand us a quarter.  Lee and I would put on our jackets and race up to the ice cream shop on Hyde Street, buy four Eskimo Pies, and race back home with them.

As if it were the final act in a play, we would slowly devour our desserts, savoring each mouthful, trying holding back the final curtain.

Noel

And people say that the premise of the TV show, "Leave it to Beaver", was a work of fiction, that the American lifestyle was never that idyllic.

1 hour ago, stans said:

And people say that the premise of the TV show, "Leave it to Beaver", was a work of fiction, that the American lifestyle was never that idyllic.

Only if mom wore a housedress and dad was in a suit and tie!

 

3 hours ago, charliearon said:

Only if mom wore a housedress and dad was in a suit and tie!

In our house Mom was wearing a house dress and Dad had taken off his suit coat but was still in a shirt and tie for dinner.  Mom used to complain about him getting gravy stains on his tie.

Noel 

My mom wore to dinner whatever she had on after doing the housework. My dad would come home from work, peel of his coveralls, and sit down at the table in his kakhi pants and shirt. I just wore whatever I had on when it came time to eat. No formality in our house. And I loved it being that way.

My Mom had a cookbook in a small binder.  All the recipes in there were hand written.  Everything from clam chowder to twice baked potatoes.   There was a note in it she must have written just before she died.  It said, 'Give this to Noel'.  I kept it for many years and after my grand daughter had her first child I gave it to her.  I think Mom would have liked that.

Noel

Edited August 20, 20214 yr by birdguy