Ever since the birth of television and other diverting technologies, the tradition of the sit-down dinner is a much scarcer one. The table with family, friends, and special moments. Heh, I’m eating a sandwich as I type this blog. My parents snack and watch a documentary behind me.

In trailer days, we didn’t have cable. We didn’t own a TV at all. We ate supper as a family every night at the dinner table. When we moved into our current house and bought a TV to keep my grandmother occupied, this habit withered away. We became a family of couch-eaters. And recliner-eaters. TV-eaters.

Connection and meaning is now buried in technology. We aren’t a nation of porch-sitters anymore. Technology shapes our connections. We find connection through Facebook and texting. I’m very guilty of this. I talked on my cell phone for the first time in several weeks Saturday night, rather than messaging. (I’m not much of a phone talker anyway, I find it exhausting.) I’m not saying Facebook and the like is bad. You find many people long forgotten this way. The internet is a miracle of connection. But we do it too much to the detriment of seeing each other. And I don’t mean simply seeing someone. I mean SEEING someone. Taking the time to listen and look into a person.

I think the solution is to consciously integrate some of the old with the new. Someday I will make sure my own family will eat at the table. We will all be together in a meaningful way every day. And meaning will also be found in the table itself. My grandmother’s table still resides in D’s apartment in Baltimore. Hopefully I will eat at it again.

There is a streak of the domestic and traditional in me. Meg, my conversation partner the other night, says it must be my Taurus moon. Haha, ok. But I do like things and what they add to the home. Even when purchased at Target, a personal stamp must be placed on something. But I like the truly original most of all.

I’ve inherited the thrift and fleamarket gene from my mother. I like old odd things. Things probably not made in China. Things not many others own. Things with histories and scratches. The retro, the vintage.

I think the retro bug bit me once I started working at antique stores. In Fredonia, I worked at a place that was half book store and half antique store. Antiques didn’t hold much interest for me. Something you’d find at the Rockefeller mansion is beyond boring.

But then I worked at an antique co-op with a wide array of antiques and collectibles. Not as many antiques, more collectibles. These items were within my interest timeframe, i.e. 1920’s on. Colorful Pyrex bowl sets. Jadeite mugs. Bakelite jewelry.

There is a thrift-style store called Anthropologie, which I can’t help but love. But the prices are exorbitant. Why shop there when you can screw on your style thinking cap and shop at a local antiques store? Shop fleamarket style at the fleamarket.

I went back to the basement again and scrounged around in Mom’s unsold collectibles. I was looking for a theme, and I found it: kitschy latin. Ohhh, this was gonna be good.

I made yummies to go with it. Turkey sofrito quesadillas, watermelon-strawberry salad, and chili-chocolate peanut parfaits. And cerveza. Always cerveza.

It’s simple. Cut up turkey cutlets and marinate them in sofrito for an hour or so. I also tried out a bit of that toothpaste-tube cilantro. Mluah. Never again. Use the real stuff instead.

Fry it all up in oil. Dice avocados. Pile turkey, cheese and avocados on corn tortillas, fold over, and broil.

Cut watermelon into cubes. Slice strawberries into quarters. Simmer water, squeeze in some lime, add sugar and stir. Cool to room temperature. Chiffonade a few mint leaves and mix all ingredients

Melt chocolate chips on low heat and add a bit of water until syrupy. Add chili-chocolate powder, sea salt and cinnamon to taste. Mix in peanuts.

Cool in the fridge. Serve at the last minute over ice cream or Cool-Whip. I know, Cool-Whip, right?!?!?!? But that’s all I had.

After the filling meal…and the heat…and the beer…I napped. For the first time in forever. Sweet contentment. Food, drink, beloveds and conversation. That’s all I need. That’s all anyone ever needs.