Answer:
Family celebrations
When I was a child, my parents insisted on at least one daily meal being a sit-down affair, complete with napkins, goblets, and candles. They weren’t old school, nor was the food always as dramatic as one might think; sometimes it was just a fluffy omelet or soup. What mattered was being in each other’s company and telling stories from our day—and what better time to do that than while eating with the family?
Most of our larger family gatherings were similar, with lots of “toasting and boasting,” but the foods—because of our Czech heritage—were elaborate, definitely old-world delicious, and cholesterol-rich: the obligatory Christmas goose, sausages, dumplings, gravies, and pastries.
Growing up, I always thought people came together for the occasions, not for the regional specialties my mother, aunts, and grandmother would serve. My grandmother especially could manufacture culinary wonders in her little kitchen, all the while doing laundry, setting the table, cleaning another room in the house, and weeding the flower beds out front.
As I got older and moved away from home, I attempted to re-create some of these comforting environments, sitting down for dinner (no TV) in my own house, with napkin, by candlelight. But it wasn’t the same, even if I made my mother’s fluffy stuffed omelets. And then it dawned on me, now that many of these dear women and behind-the-scenes chefs are no longer among us: The women themselves were the very mesh that held us together, not the occasion or the food. Under the pretense of a date on the calendar, they would summon everyone to come and gather in their homes, luring us with memorable and inimitable dishes. And we obliged.
In essence, though, what remains are the memories created around these meals—memories that will sustain all of us into the next generations. Memories are made of life and all the people in it. But food and these precious folks who prepared our meals, and who worked ceaselessly to please everyone, were the tools that created these memories.