Somewhere along the way, dinner became something we do alone, in front of a screen, between two other things. The long table, with its mismatched chairs and dishes passed from hand to hand, became a once-a-year event.
It does not have to be. A shared meal needs very little: one big dish, some bread, a bottle of something, and enough chairs. The food matters less than the time. Two hours at a table is two hours of conversation that would not have happened otherwise.
We asked readers how they keep the habit alive. The answers were wonderfully practical: a standing Sunday lunch with neighbors, a monthly potluck where everyone brings one dish from their childhood, a rule that phones go in a basket by the door.
Start small. Invite two people this week. Cook something you have made a hundred times. The table will take care of the rest.
