Fast food for dinner means dinner will be fast… and that’s okay if you’re on the run, but you certainly don’t want to make it a habit.

If dinner comes in a box or a bag, it sends a signal to gang gathered around the table.That is, if they gather around the table at all. Chances are they’ll eat it in the car or in front of the television.

I think dinner should be about more than the food. It should anchor the day for the family (or the couple). How you present that dinner sends a clear signal about how you want things go to. I’m not saying you have to break out the fine china and cloth napkins every night. It’s not really about that, but if you set a table with real plates and utensils — and real food — you are telling folks that you want them to sit down, relax, and share the conversation. Not allowing distractions like reading materials, toys, the television, and the telephones changes everything.

It might be a little more trouble to prepare and serve an actual meal, but the rewards are many.

Fast food has its place, but if at all possible, it’s not at the dinner table.

There’s more to mealtime than food, or at least there should be. Otherwise, you might as well grab your plate and eat in front of the television.

Creating a mood with music and good conversation means it’s less likely that your dinner companions will jump up and vacate the premises the second they swallow that last bite.

I like to set a tone for dinner. I vary it depending on the food I’m serving and on what’s going on in our lives on a particular day. Rarely does dinner time pass when we haven’t lingered a bit after we’ve finished eating.

When I make something with an Italian twist, my favorite accompaniment is the cool, easy style of Dean Martin. You can’t help but get in the spirit as he croons, “when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.”

When it’s romance I’m going for, I play the CD compilation we made for our wedding day. From the first note to the last, it holds deep meaning for both of us.

When I feel particularly energetic and upbeat, I’ll tune in to 70’s rock. We can’t help but sing a few notes as we clear the table, and it makes washing the dishes less dreary.

If I’m feeling funky on the weekends, I’ll tune in to NPR, which plays radio shows from the 40’s and 50’s that never fail to amuse.

Occasionally, if there is big news going on, I’ll set the radio to a news station, but I keep that to a minimum. News tends to agitate more often than not, and upsets the digestive process.

The television is not an option. Neither is answering the phone.

I like to keep a focus on what’s going on right at our dinner table. The rest of the day we’re constantly wired in to the internet, an endless stream of emails, phones, and work.  It doesn’t seem too much to ask that we carve out a bit of time to make dinner a special part of our day. We’ve come to treasure our little ritual.

With the economy being what it is, and people opting to stay home for dinner in greater numbers, maybe more folks will see the value in it.

It just so happens that tonight I’m making Italian sausage and peppers, so a few candles and my trusty Dean Martin CD will be on hand to seal the deal.

Some places have a feel. It’s an intangible that can’t be found in a chain restaurant or big box store. There are places we’ve been and foods we’ve eaten that we remember so fondly, so vividly, that they cannot be duplicated anywhere else and we’re left to wonder if they truly exist the way we remember them.

Back in my home town in northern Rhode Island, there’s a hole-in-the wall restaurant by the name of Ye Olde English Fish ‘n Chips.  It’s the kind of place that, if you were filming a movie about new england, would capture the feel and sense of place you would need to tell your story.

It’s common knowledge in my family that when I’m in town, a visit to Ye Olde English is on the agenda. It’s not a particularly impressive looking place. Show up on a Friday night and you may find yourself standing in line outside, taking in the aroma and listening to your stomach growl. Patrons order at the counter for take out or dining in the casual booths. The air is saturated with the smell of fish and diners are animated.

The fish is deep fried in plenty of batter and the fries are big and meaty. Throw in one of their giant dill pickles, and your taste buds never had it so good. After you’ve eaten the last fry with vinegar, you’ll swear that you’ll never eat again, but you know you’ll be back.

Little has changed since I was a kid. It’s still the same place with the same charm I remember. My family thinks I’m a little over the top about it, but then again, they live there. They can’t fully appreciate the unique character because they are surrounded by it. The slight accents, the sense of community, the things that can’t be forced, but must come naturally.

Every now and then, you can go home again.

If you haven’t used your fondue pot since the ’70s, you’re missing out on all the fun!

For a romantic dinner for two, the fondue pot is a catalyst for good conversation. Relax, sip some wine, and whisper sweet nothings as you linger over dinner.

You can also gather the whole family together and share some laughs as you create dinner together.

Cut up bread, vegetables, and fruit are delicious dipped in cheese. Meat, chicken, and fish can be dipped in flavored oils, and you can even melt chocolate for a fondue dessert.

Dinner should never be boring. A fondue pot stirs the imagination and inspires creativity. Dust off your old one or invest in a new one and get the party started!

Tuna in a can is one thing. Tuna steak is quite another!

This is a very fast and simple way to make a melt-in-your-mouth delicious tuna steak. I’m not sure it would be particularly appreciated by the kiddies, but with a little white wine, a salad, a green vegetable, and a couple of candles, you’ve got a lovely, romantic dinner for two.

Here’s all you need:

* 2 tuna steaks  * extra virgin olive oil  * freshly ground black pepper  * parsley flakes  * sesame seeds  * lemon wedges

Brush frying pan with olive oil. Add tuna and season with pepper, parsley, and sesame seeds. Cook on medium heat, half way through and turn, adding more olive oil as necessary.

Season again and cook through — 4-6 minutes per side, depending upon thickness of tuna. Keep a watchful eye because overcooking will make the dry! Serve with lemon wedges.

With just these few light seasonings, the robust flavor of the tuna will shine through.

It just doesn’t get any easier.

This gorgeous evening sky was our view from the kitchen table recently.

I was so awestruck by this beautiful scene that I stood watching until darkness fell.

I was reminded of how very small we are, when we factor in the vastness of space and time. During the holiday season, especially, we tend to become over involved with inconsequential details and busying ourselves with things that don’t matter.

Simple joys can be found in the most routine event of the day — dinner time. Whenever possible, I urge you to gather round that kitchen table and share a meal. You might be surprised at the interesting conversation brought about by something as timeless as sunset.

We recently had the great pleasure of attending a family pizza party.

We don’t get to spend much time with family so, when given the option of either going to a nice restaurant or doing a takeout/game night, we chose the latter. The takeout morphed into “make your own pizza” night, and what a night it was!

Our host and hostess opted to make their own dough, spending hours in the kitchen prior to our arrival in order to prepare the feast. They rolled dough and chopped and sliced until the countertops were fairly overflowing with colorful ingredients enough to suit all in attendance.

One by one, they called us in turn. Handed fresh pizza dough, we topped our pizzas to suit our individual tastes and off they went into the oven.

When it comes to dinner conversation, you can’t ask for a better set-up. Talk and laughter flowed freely as we critiqued our pizzas and enjoyed the commotion.

After we’d all had our fill, we moved on to games. That’s when we fell in love with Wii — something every age group is comfortable playing!

If making your own dough sounds like too much effort, you can easily substitute ready-made dough, and if you get the whole gang in on it, clean up will be a cinch.

What a delightful way to celebrate food and family. You’ll cherish the memories.

From our “strange but true” files…

This mint condition Hamilton Beach milk shake machine, circa 1950, resides in a place of honor in my sister’s home. I like to think of it as a family heirloom. So much so that on my last visit there, I requested that it be removed from its perch so I could photograph it.

Sis thought I’d come unglued, but she humored me anyway. It’s something big sisters instinctively do.

A little online sleuthing leaves me wondering whether it is vintage 40’s or 50’s, but I did discover that they’re quite the little collector’s item. It’s more than that to me, though. The very sight of it — the funky jadeite color, the smooth lines, the gleaming metal, instantly transports me to another era.

When we were kids, the good old Hamilton Beach was stashed away in a kitchen cupboard until called into duty. It rarely made an appearance outside of Christmas when Dad — who wasn’t exactly known for his kitchen abilities — would offer up a strange concoction of eggs, sugar, and… I’m not sure I want to know what else… and called it egg nog. We had a ball watching him work what we thought was magic, highlighted by the whirrrrrrr of the Hamilton Beach mixer. It was a comforting sound. Actually drinking the stuff was secondary.

The only other “recipe” of Dad’s was a weird salad dressing that he called “slop,” something that made Mom wince. It’s funny, the memories that coming flooding back at the sight of a kitchen appliance. I suppose it’s because the kitchen truly is the heart of the home, and the memories made there are the most comforting.

Thanks for the memories, Hamilton Beach.

We dined at our favorite local Thai restaurant this weekend.  I was reminded, once again, of the importance of ambience.

We are drawn to this particular restaurant for many reasons, not the least of which is the food. But it takes more than good food to keep us coming back for more.

Here, we are greeted with a friendly smile and “welcome back!” The authentic music plays at just the proper level for dining. The color scheme is warm and relaxing. The furniture is not only beautiful to look at, but comfortable to sit in.

We relax as we take in the atmosphere and the aromas. We feel no need to rush either our dinner or our conversation.

It’s not necessary to leave the house to experience fine dining. With the right touches, we can create a wonderful dinner right at our own kitchen table, even with the simplest menu. The evening meal is about more than food. It’s about reconnecting after a busy day.