Families that eat together stay together. Feasts and celebrations go hand in hand. Families coming together is enough of a celebration.

I have visions of long wooden trestle tables groaning with food, of a large family sitting around it and in true Mediterranean fashion are eating, drinking and talking. All at the same time.

Things become loud and by the main course things are at their loudest. Dessert, many hours later, and voices are less. Tummies are full and people become sluggish. The siesta calls, under a tree preferably in a hammock. Kids have long ago fallen asleep, safely deposited in the couches indoors.

Grown ups that can still keep their eyes open talk over espresso coffee, this time their voices a bit softer. There’s no need to compete for airtime.

The quiet zzzzzzs and the loud snores evidence of a feast enjoyed.

If I could, I’d have a feast every Sunday.