Note: this foreword is reprinted from the ward cookbook and will be replaced with a new letter.
"It's Not the Food, Stupid."
When I was asked to write the introduction to the new cookbook, my initial response was to become a food critic or a health expert. I started to write about the importance of smooth and creamy sauces, light and flaky croissants, and delicate and fluffy meringues. However, I realized that, unless you paid $15 per plate at a nice restaurant, the quality of the preparation is of secondary importance. Next I started to write about the importance of eating more fruits and vegetables and fewer sugars and fats. I even started to dole out sage advice like "Broil, bake, roast or poach instead of frying foods," and "Avoid saturated fat and cholesterol in your meals." Again, and you should thank me, I stopped that lecture. It, too, is of secondary importance. What, then, is of primary importance? Primarily, families should regularly sit down together for slow dinners! It's not the food but the family that matters.
I worry about the long-term effects of what I call "pop-tart" families in a fast-food world. Families where each member, acting in isolation, pops a prepackaged so-called meal into the toaster or microwave, stands over the sink, wolfs down his or her "fuel" while listening to an iPod, texting a friend, or watching "reality" on TV. Families should be more than a group of independent contractors loosely held together by a common need to heat their food and take cover from the rain.
I take the First Presidency's proclamation seriously: "the family is central to the Creator's plan for the eternal destiny of His children." A practical and primary tool to get families to live up to their potential is a deliberately slow collective dinner. A consistent family dinner may even rival family prayer, family scripture study, and family home evening in its ability to build family unity.
I grew up in a family that ate dinner together. Each family member played some role in the preparation and cleanup. During dinner we talked about school, sports, church, vacations, current events, etc. We discussed family issues and talked our way through problems. That is, we dealt with the real "reality" stuff of everyday living. I still have a great fondness for warm rolls, fresh berry pies, and bland rice, not necessarily because of their taste; rather, it's because of the fond memories they conger up in my mind. Fortunately, JoLene has a similar belief to my parents in the magical powers of family dinners. Even more fortunate for me, she is a real artist when it comes to cooking. Most fortunate of all, however, are the social and spiritual benefits the six McQueens are reaping from sitting down together at family dinners.
May your dinners be slow. May your meals edify the soul as well as feed the body.
Bon Appétit! Bishop McQueen
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