In my last post I promised I would talk a bit about those dinner-assembly franchises like Let's Dish, Dream Dinners and My Girlfriend's Kitchen. They're popping up everywhere like the proverbial toadstools. The Washington Post recently printed an excellent primer on the subject (you may need to register for this, try BugMeNot for help). Quickly, the idea is that one makes an appointment to go collate ingredients for 12 or so recipes from pre-prepared ingredients by following recipes posted at each station. At the end of assembly, the meals - which serve 4 to 6 - are put into freezer-friendly containers and carted home. For about $200, the assembler has roughly two weeks of meals and, at least according to the marketing, has enjoyed a lovely wine-filled girls' (for, lets face it, the men of the house aren't really being spoken to here) night out cavorting with friends and yet still managing to fulfill her duty to family and home.

I find the idea behind these stores very attractive. Who wouldn't love to cook with friends, share the work, double the fun and come out of the whole event with delicious food to eat for days to come? Sounds lovely to me. Actually, it must sound lovely to a lot of women, because since Dream Dinners opened back in 2003 the industry has racked up billions in annual sales and competition has sprung forth like zucchini in July.

I can't help but wish, though, that moms had social permission to go out with friends without having to also multitask their way to through one of the most burdensome household tasks - making yet another dinner on yet another busy day. There seems to be something a little naughty about moms heading out on their own to think only of themselves for a couple hours. Or is going out with friends reserved for those selfish singles who viewed Sex and the City as aspirational television? There is something culturally going on that does not really love to see mothers indulging in some non-family related downtime - I guess I'm not surprised that womens' social time has now expanded to include dinner preparation duties. Moreover, I don't think it's too picky to point out that where individuals are pictured on the companies' websites, they are white. "Family" seems to be fairly narrowly defined here as caucasian, two-parent and fairly affluent. And, please, don't get me started on the "The best idea since the invention of the wife(R)" tagline - Brainiac nearly collapsed of rant-induced boredom the last time I even mentioned it.

But even beyond the socioeconomic issues, I'm troubled that businesses that are positioning themselves as offering solutions to a family problem may well actually be worsening a social problem. Most of the major franchises don't allow children to attend an assembly session - citing local and state laws about children in commercial kitchens - and some of them only permit couples under certain conditions and at certain times. So even while these companies are claiming to make things easier for women responsible for meal preparation, I think they are really reinforcing the social pressures that resulted in women maintaining sole responsibility for feeding their families in the first place. A woman who turns to any one of these establishments with frequency may well get food on the table but she also is going to have family members who are not learning to cook and share the job but who are also completely removed from grocery shopping and preparing food for cooking. It's one thing to not really love to cook or not totally get how it's done, but it's another altogether different story to not even be sure how to chop a fresh bell pepper, tear lettuce or know which end of a scallion is used. Or what constitutes a good buy on chicken, for that matter. Dinner assembly out of the house increases the risk that our kids' generation will be even less connected to their food than our own.

I want to be clear about one thing. I am not blaming women in general or dinner assembly customers specifically for their dinner-related issues. I know all too well what it's like to stare into the fridge at 6:30 p.m. wondering what on earth to feed the cherubs dancing about my legs chanting that they're staaaaarrvvvviinngggg. And I've certainly known the frustration associated with paying good, hard-earned cash for a larder full of fresh vegetables, meats, fruits and lovely condiments only to throw away shameful amounts because we were too busy to cook and eat at home and so grabbed a dog at Target. Further, I understand more than I care to the pressures associated with owning a lovely kitchen in a nice exurban town, only to have to leave it empty all day while out paying for it. Really, I know and know there really is a problem here in search of a solution. But this solution isn't really because it will only make the problem worse for having institutionalized not addressing the root causes of the dinner problem and making it o.k. to leave them unaddressed as long as food's on the table and mom's getting out once in a while.

It would be fair to challenge me on what I'd recommend to a busy woman with bacon to bring home if she can't quite find the time or energy to fry it up in the pan. If not Dream Dinners or it's siblings, then what? Well, as it happens I do have a few ideas. And, within the next three weeks, four dinner assembly joints are to open within 10 miles of my house. Despite the impression I may have given, I'm keeping an open mind and plan to give one or two a try. Like I said, I do find something attractive about the idea of hanging out with other women, having a laugh or two, and cooking up many evenings' worth of dinners. I just wish that instead of doing it at My Girlfriend's Kitchen I was doing it at, you know, my girlfriend's kitchen.