An old joke with my son. I asked him one day, "What was your favorite meal that I made when you were growing up?" And he said, "I always liked your Taco Bell."
I remember what it was like in those days. And that long marriage that didn't last. Always in a hurry. Rush from work, pick up the kids at day care, always stressed to get there on time and come into a messy house and try to figure out what to have for supper with my little toddler fussing at my knees. I know I cooked. I even have pictures of us at the table, but I cannot remember those meals.
One Sunday, years later, I thought of work the next day and lamented that the weekend was over. But not quite. Why not make a special supper and invite my bachelor brother to join us? Something slow cooked, savory and comforting. And that is when it began. We had special suppers every Sunday night. I was taking care of my ailing mother at the time. Sometimes we set up TV trays and watched "60 Minutes" while we ate. My mom and my brother would get out the Scrabble board or Trivial Pursuit. Everyone talks of those meals now.
A few years later, dating the man who would become my husband late in life. He would cook for me. He called it a weird role reversal but it was his house, after all. We would have a glass of wine on the porch. He would make a salad and grill some steaks, checking his watch to get it just right. Now I cook but we have wine with supper. Almost every night like a date night.
Can it be true that by just deciding to make it memorable, it becomes so for everyone involved? That is what Simple Sunday Supper is all about.