bringing dinner back

“When planning for a year, plant corn. When planning for a decade, plant trees. When planning for life, train and educate people.” — Chinese proverb

When planning through Friday, write a list and stick it on the refrigerator.

As is often my Monday routine, I organize the week’s food once I get everyone off to school and work (one of my greatest pleasures, I must admit; after my banker husband was off-and-on unemployed for 14 months last year, it still gives me a thrill to see him drive away to work every morning). I start with a my low-tech version of a spreadsheet (pictured), which includes the vital info on where we have to be each night. Sadly, it’s no longer ever a case of whether we have something to do on a weeknight — it’s just a matter of what, when, and how far away in Dallas traffic it is.

I love the mundane task of planning a weekly menu and grocery shopping. It’s meditative for me, just like cooking. I look at what we’re doing, how much time I’ll have to cook, what I got at the fruit & vegetable co-op that weekend, what’s forgotten in the freezer, what’s on sale at Whole Foods, and what my family is eating these days (which seems to change hourly with my 12-year-old; as of Halloween night, Kit-Kats are now out of favor).

Who needs Excel?

This week’s offerings thus far:

• Monday: Arroz con pollo (a recipe from one of my dearest friends, given to her by the Cuban woman who waxed her legs in Port St. Lucie, Fla., in the ’90s) with a French baguette, fresh mozzarella, basil and Roma tomatoes. A true Mediterranean mish mash. Bought some fake chicken to try a version for Noah (the vegetarian with the suddenly unpredictable taste buds). Never tried it before so we’ll see. In a pot on the next burner, you’ll find the tried-and-true version where a chicken so kindly has sacrificed its life.

• Tuesday: The vegetarian has a campout with his class, which means two things: One, guess we’ll all get up early to have breakfast together before he leaves (I suspect this request will not be popular). Two, T-bones steaks all around. Since they were on sale a couple of weeks ago at Whole Foods, I got three, so my 9-year-old carnivore will get his own plate-sized steak. He’ll be thrilled (and likely have leftovers for Wednesday’s lunch). Red potatoes and green beans on the side.

• Wednesday: So far, I just have brats and okra. Since I hate okra, I probably should find something to add to that.

• Thursday: Running-around kind of afternoon so gnocchi (frozen) with a pesto cream sauce, some yummy bread out of the breadmaker, and salad. UPDATE: What am I thinking? Rock climbing 5-7 pm for Noah, 7:15 pm football game for Sawyer. Leftover arroz con pollo and maybe a salad if I’m feeling ambitious (which seems doubtful by the time we all walk back in the door at 8:45 pm).

• Friday: African soup with friends who are coming over to work for this weekend’s Global Village Market at my church. We’re stealing the Starbucks idea of putting fabric in coffee travel mugs for Congo Restoration. Thinking about inviting friends from Zimbabwe. Maybe my first African feast? We’ll see. I can’t wait. A chilly autumn Friday night with bowls of hot soup, buttered fresh bread, red wine, and friends to help orphans in the Congo — perfection.

My 12-year-old son doesn’t think we can pull this off, this daily dining together. I say all it takes is a little planning and a lot of intention — in thinking about dinner, in what we hope our children will remember from their childhoods, and in what we hope they will pass onto their children and world.