Craig Daily Press

When I think of a family dinner, I think of friends and family circled around the counter listening to the stories of when our parents were our age. In turn, us kids imitated the most entertaining of the relatives, in their presence or in their absence.

I think of great food, great people and great conversation.

Like each course of a family dinner that brings a different taste to your mouth, each guest brings a different lesson to the table.

Some people underestimate the value of a family dinner. Because getting overtime hours or a job promotion seems more important at the time then a home-cooked meal with their family. They rationalize this thinking with ordering take-out that night and promising to cook tomorrow. And it becomes a continuous cycle, neglecting a family dinner for a busy schedule.

We are all in a hurry. We hurry to work in the morning to check our e-mails, often spilling the coffee we bought from the drive-through espresso shop on our freshly pressed shirt. We hurry through our lunch break, sometimes eating at our desks, other times eating with our Blackberries.

We hurry through each day with the knowledge that there will be a tomorrow.

We are in a hurry to get to the end of the day. And we look back with satisfaction to see that everything on our to-do list has been completed.

Yet, with all this hurrying, and all of our focus being put on time, we lose focus on life. This is the reason you might see your co-worker looking through photos on Facebook, reminiscing about the past weekend or checking up on old friends. The same reason some people search through YouTube for videos to bring them laughter on a hectic day at work.

Because we hurry so much that we forget to appreciate what is before our eyes.

The little things. The little things like family dinners.

I, too, can feel myself hurrying through the little things.

With a busy work schedule and food catered to me by the organization, I have found myself longing for a family dinner. Although my friends and I had weekly Wednesday dinners this summer, which we called our family dinners, it wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t like a Raftopoulos family dinner.

The kind that lasts late into the night, to the point where leftovers are eaten as a midnight snack, one where not everyone is family, but becomes a member by the end of the night.

And we raise our glasses toasting to the night and the people who surround us.

I have found myself going to the store buying groceries in bulk the way my mother does before a family dinner. Only coming home to realize that I had no family to cook for.

But, I came home with another realization, that the desire to have family dinners is in my blood. And no matter where I am, I will always create that family dinner atmosphere.

For this reason, I decided to make spanikopita, a Greek dish that is a staple for family dinners at my house. There wasn’t a special occasion or a family dinner in order. Making the spanikopita for me was more for the feeling of a family dinner. When my roommates questioned the reason behind this extensive cooking, I told them that this was my therapy. Each ingredient and each smell triggered memories of the nightly family dinners I have back home, and I was comforted with relaxation — and I was in no hurry to see it end.

As a child, I watched my mother make pan after pan of spanikopita for our family dinners. Although the meticulous process of making the Greek delicacy gave my mother a questioning mind. She questioned each time she made it whether it tasted as good as the last one. In fact, each time she made it, it was always better. But really it wasn’t about the end product for my mother. It was about the process of preparing for a family dinner. It was about the smiles from her dinner guest got when they saw the pans of spanikopita on the counter.

Those smiles made a family dinner.

And I found those same smiles at someone else’s family dinner, where I was the guest who was welcomed like family. Although these faces were new, the smiles were not. This family appreciates the little things, the little things like a family dinner.