A Dying Art

Not too long ago, my wife was going through our kitchen cupboards. She found several sets of plates and bowls, four sets of utensils, fine china and silver for 16, and every kitchen gadget invented since our marriage in 1986.

"Why do we have this stuff? We never eat at home," she complained."

Good question. We could feed a small army here were it not for the fact that we've forgotten how to use the stove," I replied.

And that's the honest truth. Somewhere during the last 20 years we've transitioned from a poor eat-at-home graduate student family of two to a living-life-at-warp-speed family of four. We are more at home in a restaurant than we are in our own kitchen.

And it's not just us (although I admit we are a bit above the norm). Furthermore, dining out seems to be a Texas preoccupation.

The Zagat Survey reports that, while US citizens on average dine out 3.2 times per week, Texas residents in Dallas and Austin dine out 4.0 times per week. And those hungry folks in Houston eat out 4.2 times each week.

The restaurant industry expects total sales this year to be a whopping $511 billion, and, with 300 million Americans, that comes to $1701 for every man, woman and child. Even more sobering is the fact that 47.5% of our food dollars are spent in restaurants. I wish that I could say my family only spent that much dining out each month.

It's not that restaurant food has gotten that much better than it was. It's not that we have more dining options than ever before. Nor is it true that we have a bottomless pit of discretionary money sitting idly by.

No, it's the fact that we simply do not have the time or desire to bother with cooking at home.

Back to my family: I tote my lunch to school about half the time, while the rest of the time I eat out with two other profs (Dr. Lewer and Mr. Hayward). During my "Lunch With The Economists," we discuss everything from business and economics to religion. I find the conversation to be far more tasty than a couple of sandwiches.

And then there's the fact that we wind up in Amarillo 2 or 3 evenings each week just at the right time to eat. Given that we live 20 miles from Amarillo, dinner just seems so far off when we've just retrieved the (hungry) kids from gymnastics at Amarillo College. So we head to Moe's, Sharky's, Noodles, or Ruby's.

Let's not forget the weekend. Friday night begs to be celebrated, so we're dining out again. And Saturday evening is our ritual church-and-dinner outing with our good friends. Sunday is about the only day we stay home. Maybe.

Good grief, my Visa statement reads like an Amarillo restaurant guide. If only I could turn this into a money-making experience by publishing restaurant reviews.

But, alas, that's not going to happen. You see, this is a lot of people's story. Our lifestyles are so hectic, our Palm Pilots so filled with appointments, that our homes have become the place where we sleep and store our stuff.

And that's about it. We seldom ever cook at home, and when we do, it's usually from a very short list of options. After all, why keep groceries on hand if you're not going to use them?

The result is that my wife and I are losing any food preparation skills we once had. Her days are filled with homeschooling and shuttling the kids to their numerous social engagements, while mine are filled with research, online teaching, meetings, and a hurried workout on the bike. Food is just another thing we do, and it's usually in someone else's place.

Which reminds me. We're thinking of having a garage sale. Anyone need some kitchen stuff?

Dr "I'll Sell You A Salad Shooter For $3" Gerlich