FEEDING A CROWD, no. 4

FEEDING A CROWD is my ongoing series about cooking for large groups—from holidays, family reunions and vacation houses to multigenerational tables—where recipes matter, but people matter more. This is a series about how we gather. If you’re new, start here, and if special diets are your challenge, give this one a read.

Friends—Hello!

How I have missed you. We’re back from 5 glorious days in the Midwest with my parents. Often we book a trip to see my parents directly after school is out, since by the time my kids finish school, late June—weeks and weeks after the midwestern kids finish—my parents are dying to see their grandkids.

This year we needed that trip home more than ever. It doesn’t matter how old you are, sometimes you really need your parents, especially if you have a certain kind—loving and thoughtful, generous and nurturing in all the best ways.

Being a food family (to wit: last night during a game of Runs in the Family, when the question was “a hobby we all share”—Mátyás wrote down: “eating food”), the meals we eat during a week at my parents are always a topic of interest. My sweet dad usually has a running list going of all the fun things we will do during our stay—with meals/treats implied, woven into the fabric of every outing, errand, and visit.

• long bike rides (to/from Baskin-Robbins)

• breakfast at Stockholm Inn (our favorite Swedish pancakes)

• driving range (with a zip-bag of Oreos packed for emergencies)

• swim dates (just after lunch at the club)

• movie dates (popcorn + snacks)

And then there are the many favorite from-scratch meals at home. Some years, we only graze the surface, but last week we did nearly everything on the list—every delicious meal included.

After we came home, I realized just what a feat it is that we had so many delicious, nurturing moments together, without any of it feeling like much of a fuss. That’s six people, ages 11 to 80 (four adults, one tween and a teen), all with different needs and diets (from diabetes to high cholesterol, growing teen/tween brains/bodies, one vegetarian and every one of us who likes our treats). It’s a small miracle, really.

When you’re an adult child at your parents home, it isn’t a week of simply showing up at the table. Every meal requires many micro decisions, quiet negotiations, and small acts of generosity from both hosts and guests that no one would remember individually—but together made the week feel effortless.