A Quote by Catherine Reitman

I don't have a perfect meal on the table most nights. Any night! — © Catherine Reitman
I don't have a perfect meal on the table most nights. Any night!
This is how the world changes - little by little, table by table, meal by meal, hour by hour. This is how we chip away at isolation, loneliness, fear. This is how we connect, in big and small ways - we do it around the table.
Imagine if we had a food system that actually produced wholesome food. Imagine if it produced that food in a way that restored the land. Imagine if we could eat every meal knowing these few simple things: What it is we're eating. Where it came from. How it found its way to our table. And what it really cost. If that was the reality, then every meal would have the potential to be a perfect meal.
On any given night - there are nights that you feel better. There are nights that you are vocally better. There are nights that you are not as vocally good. No question about it.
Good families always ritualize the table. You can say, "This is a Christmas meal; this is a birthday meal."
There's a value to getting the meal on the table every night, and there's a value to being an old-school kind of parent.
When I'm in need of a quick meal or party dish, a burger is hands-down my go-to pick! Burgers are easy, fast, and don't even require utensils to eat, making them the perfect get-together main course, tailgating essential, and simple dinner recipe to whip up any night of the week.
We sat together as a family for dinner at night. And my mother had a job. My dad had a job. But there was always a meal on the table at 6:00, you know.
Working- and Middle-class families sat down at the dinner table every night - the shared meal was the touchstone of good manners. Indeed, that dinner table was the one time when we were all together, every day: parents, grandparents, children, siblings. Rudeness between siblings, or a failure to observe the etiquette of passing dishes to one another, accompanied by "please" and "thank you," was the training ground of behavior, the place where manners began.
I stopped trying to chase the perfect place to be, and realized the perfect place is with your loved ones and your closest friends, around the dinner table, over a good meal, talking about the past year and the year to come and things that you want to change in your life. You hear their stories and talk about things you'd like to see happen in the world. That's what we do.
If I have the perfect meal and I'm with the person I love most - what more can you want out of life?
Dessert is probably the most important stage of the meal, since it will be the last thing your guests remember before they pass out all over the table.
At home we have always regarded the dining table as the prime seat of learning. We planned it so it was impossible to see or hear a TV from the table, and it has paid dividends in the volume of ideas that have been shared over the evening meal.
In anticipation of a meal - supposing we are with the ideal companion at the best table in the perfect restaurant - we might indeed postpone sadness. And maybe even halfway through, we will remain in tolerably high spirits, with dessert still to come. But as we near the end of eating, we begin to feel anticipatory twinges of anticlimax.
It was as if this night were only one of thousands of nights, world without end, night curving into night to make a great arching line of which I couldn’t see the end, a night in which I roamed alone under cold, mindless stars.
I love cooking vegan. Anybody can come in any time to any of our restaurants and get a vegan meal or a gluten-free meal as well.
I have my Master's Degree but I learned more at my dinner table than any class I ever took. My dad would come home from the sweat factory and put the money on the table and say Mea, here is some money for insurance and food and we always had that little extra for Friday night pizza at Barcelona's.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!