“Shall we go through?”

food from Downton Abbey

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“You know the way my family does dinner,” I said.

“It’s a five act play,” replied my husband.

And he’s correct.

The Nicewarners do dinner all out — cocktail hour while the onions caramelize, dinner hour(s) of multiple sides and an entrée and a wine paired with the meal, desserts, coffee, and apéritifs all as often as we can for the simple reason that it’s fun. And it’s what we do.

It’s a tradition with us. One that has made its way into the pages of this publication before. We might trace it through the tendency towards communal meals in the Marines, particularly among the officers. My mom hosted more meals for more gentlemanly and foul-mouthed Marines than I can count. I remember the face my mom made, even if I don’t remember the word that caused it, when a very abashed man who always referred to my father as “Sir” let an expletive slip in front of me while he was dining at our home. He had forgotten that there was a kid in the room and had started telling a curse-riddled and completely inappropriate story.

I was the only kid in the room. I was always the only kid. And I benefited from learning how to sit at the grown-up table and sip wine and eat aged cheeses from the age of twelve.