I miss the meal. As a part of American life, the move away from a daily meal around a table was a poor move. I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. Right? I know I’m not alone because in about ten and a half seconds I can locate a handful of written laments about family dinners of a bygone era.
One of my courses this semester is titled Meat and Drink in America. That’s what it’s about; in particular, we will focus on America’s industrial food system. I’ll be writing a lot about it this semester, I’m sure, because it really gets me going.
Before I begin all that posting, there is a conceptual question to address. What is a meal? If we agree that the meal has lost its place in our daily lives, what exactly are we agreeing that we’ve lost? The primary means of calorie consumption –especially among my age group– is grazing. Few fixed meals, fewer still at consistent places and times. Ongoing eating -“fueling”- as one student termed it, is the way we eat. What makes the consumption of food “eating” versus “a meal”? You know it when you see it, right? Of the food you consume in a given week, how many would you actually classify as meals, and what criteria did you use to make that judgement?
I will sketch out some of the criteria that make a meal a meal for me. Not everyone will have the same response. In class discussion, some felt a meal was any quantity of food that was calorically sufficient. It could be a pile of Lance crackers, or a bag of pistachios, or three bowls of tomato soup. For another student, the type of food didn’t matter but the presence of others was essential. Yet another group felt that a meal was a main dish plus a couple of sides, plus the company of others, etc. I’d like to know what you think. For me, here it is:
(a) A meal is seated. Alex hears it all the time, probably because I heard it all the time growing up: “Don’t eat standing up!” Sit, sit, sit!
(b) A meal entails a modicum of cooking or preparation. The more cooking involved, the farther along the meal spectrum it goes.
(c) A meal involves more than one ingredient. Sometimes those ingredients can be all together in one dish (e.g. lasagna or a stew) but my preference is for at least one side dish.
(d) A meal is social. Now, I have had meals alone. If I cook something delicious and sit down at the table to eat it… that can be a meal. The best meals, though… they’re usually shared.
(e) A meal involves silverware and a drink. This goes along with (a). You sit, you eat, you drink. You use a fork.
(f) A meal implies a certain degree of satiety. I can sit across the table from Alex and have a snack, but it’s just a shared snack. A meal fills some certain (and unquantified) portion of the day’s eating.
Some of the material defining meals cross-culturally is a bit dated, but provides good examples. Of working-class English, one researcher says:
“A working-class “main meal” properly consists of at least three courses, each with its own qualities of temperature, sweetness, and moisture. The main course is always hot and salty; it consists of a staple (potato), a centerpiece (a joint of meat, fowl, or fish), trimmings (hot vegetables), and liquid dressing (a think gravy). Working-class families would never think of eating anything sweet (such as an appetizer of fruit) or cold (such as a salad) before a hot, salty main course. The second course or “sweet” lacks the trimmings but otherwise also consists of a staple (a cereal product), a centerpiece (fruit), and a liquid dressing (cream)- ingredients that might be in the form of a fruit tart, a trifle, or a pudding. Up until the third course the foods have been hot, such as plain water, cold; the final course of hot tea or coffee and cold biscuits reverses that situation”.
Whether your concept of a meal is that particular or not, each of us has a framework for what should or should not count. I’d like to hear from you: what makes a meal?
Two Social Scientists Walk Into a Kitchen... 
I like your criteria– I was thinking the same things about the amount of prep time involved, whether you sit to enjoy it, etc. Regarding the silverware criterion, though, I’m reminded of the first time Jack and I went to one of those places that makes you a huge burrito with the fillings of your choice (like Qdoba, Chipotle, etc.). He looked at the giant burrito and said, “It’s like a meal in my HAND!” I thought it was hilarious that he was so taken with that concept, so it’s become a go-to joke in our family… especially since we love the burrito places now. Where else can a meat-eater and a vegetarian eat together in such harmony? 😉
Pre-kids, we ate in front of the TV every night, even if it was something really awesome that I spent a lot of time cooking. We just never used our dining room table, and we’d talk while we were watching TV, but not substantively. I am SO glad that we changed that when our first child was old enough to sit in a high chair, and we haven’t looked back. Every few months, when we want a break, we eat pizza or Chinese or something in front of the TV and pull our kids’ little table into the living room, and it’s fun, but it feels really WEIRD now! For us, the transition was absolutely spurred on by that idea that we needed to eat *around the table* as a family and enjoy each other’s company. Not sure why it didn’t occur to us as newlyweds– probably because we spent almost every minute at home together anyway, so we had plenty of other chances to talk.
Hi Erica! I can absolutely relate to your TV meals. Alex and I do that a lot, because we see so much of each other, we don’t feel like we always need to chat over a table. When we put a lot of effort into a dinner, though, it is satisfying to sit and eat it without a show in the background.
You made a good point about the burritos. There are always exceptions – I can eat a meal by myself, and a fork isn’t really necessary. The meal in my hand comment is really cute!
Good post. To me, a meal is not the eating so much as the fellowship and the mutual support. It’s where I get to talk with Francie about the day, what’s coming up, what the challenges, the successes, and the difficulties have been, It’s where memory lives, and we often talk about past times, people that have gone on, etc.
As a religious person, to me it also mimics the “heavenly banquet,” but that’s a “whol nother” discussion. We saw a very interesting NOVA last night about early humans (Homo erectus) and how they progressed mostly because they learned to cook, eat together, and thus mutual support was their greatest advance, in protection and nurturance, etc. Makes sense. We need it.
Cheers. Marshall
A meal is not just the food, although I spend a lot of time and energy planning for how well things go together. I think it means people slow down, hopefully, acknowledge each other’s real presence and genuinely connect. They may even make memories, laugh, or share something. It is a ceremony of a sort–feeding the body. I have learned to slow down, chew my food, really taste the food and texture. This is part of honoring the meal, being grateful for the abundance. You can do this alone, or not.