duminică, 6 aprilie 2014

Sunday meal

Is the moment when people gather around the table, eat and smile, small taking about unimportant casualties or discussing the hardest moment of their current, temporary life. I hated Sunday meals, because of the chicken soup, because of the empty plates expected after you fill in yourself with food, a lot of food, too much food, because I never prepare them and they were always ready when I was not. And because they always finish up with cake, what a horror! Sunday meals were the weekly burden that I was always fed up with, and which probably other kids would dream about.
I started to appreciate Sunday meals when I did not have them anymore. The Sundays were free, unrestrictive, but lonely without a ritual. I could not put my finger on what was missing from my Sundays, until I have once been invite to an after-Sunday meal to my then boyfriend house. I saw the chicken soup, the second dish with potatoes and I realized that that was it. The Sunday meal was actually missing from my ritual. I went a few more times to after-Sunday meal to eat in my then boyfriend house, but I never enjoyed with him the Sunday meals rituals.
I settle down in the mean time at my own place, I cook from time to time, but I still did not fully implement the Sunday meal ritual. Sometimes I am busy, other times I forget, not always I feel like, but there are also the days when I cook something great, I accompany it with a glass of wine and I just enjoy it. Maybe I would like to have the Sunday lunch-dinner regularly shared with the people I currently share my life, but I still do not bake the cake.