I’ve always loved entertaining.
When I married my husband—who happened to be the second oldest of eleven children—I quickly became the unofficial hostess for family gatherings. Most of his siblings lived nearby, so birthdays, holidays, and “just because” dinners often meant preparing for 25 or more people.
If you could peek inside the metal cupboards in my basement, you’d see the remnants of those years: neatly stacked dishes in multiple sets, glassware for every type of beverage, and shelves lined with serving pieces collected over time. I’ve never been a paper-plate kind of hostess. And wine, in my opinion, deserves to be poured into something beautiful.
When the Party Closets Go Quiet
That was then.
Since my husband died, the party closets have stood silent—abandoned, ignored, gathering dust instead of guests. I still love the idea of entertaining, but the reality of doing it alone has felt... heavy.
And if I’m being honest, the older I get, the more I tend to eat out. Or cobble together whatever’s simple at home. There have been nights when potato chips and cottage cheese passed for dinner. Not gourmet, but grief doesn’t follow a menu.
A Pot of Corn Chowder and a Simple Question
One quiet Sunday afternoon, I decided to make a big pot of corn chowder. No particular reason—just something comforting that felt right.
As the soup simmered, a thought surfaced: What if I didn’t eat this alone? So, I picked up the phone and called a few people. Nothing fancy, just a casual, last-minute invitation to share a meal.
A couple from next door. My brother-in-law. A good friend from the yarn shop.
To my surprise and delight, they all came. The table was full. The house, usually so still, rang with laughter and conversation. With Pandora’s “Dinner Jazz” playing softly in the background, something beautiful was born that evening: the tradition of Sunday Supper.
What Grew Around the Table
From that one evening, Sunday Supper became a regular thing.
Our little band of neighbors and friends now gathers most weekends. We share a simple meal, a few hours of life, and the kind of easy, unhurried conversation that feels like medicine for the soul.
This weekly tradition has turned us into a dependable little crew who occasionally partake in a game of Rummikub after dessert. Don’t be fooled by the coziness; the competition can be fierce.
The Quiet Courage to Reopen Your Door
Looking back, I’m grateful for that one pot of soup. It nudged me to open my heart and my door again. Grief can shrink your world without you realizing it. The routine of its loneliness becomes too comfortable. But that Sunday reminded me that community doesn’t have to be big or loud. Sometimes, the ingredients for community are a simple bowl of soup, a humble seat at the table, and the friendly faces willing to accept your invitation.
If you’re feeling a little lonely today, missing a sense of connection, or just need a good evening laughing, then maybe it’s time to stir something on the stove and make a few calls. You don’t need matching wine glasses or a perfect table setting; the food has a way of doing the connecting for you. You just need the willingness to invite someone in.
Want to Try Your Own Sunday Supper?
Here’s the Corn Chowder recipe that started it all. But honestly? It doesn’t have to be soup. Pick your favorite dish—whatever feels warm and easy—and see who says yes.
Remember, there’s no pressure to make the whole meal; your version of Sunday Supper might look like hosting a potluck!
You never know what kind of joy might be waiting on the other side of a simple meal.
Sunday Supper Corn Chowder
Serves 6-8
Ingredients
Red or Yukon Gold Potatoes cut into small chunks (About 2 pounds)
1 large onion, chopped
2 tablespoons butter
3 or so cups of corn (fresh cut from the cob or frozen)
2 teaspoons of a favorite spice (Trader Joe's 21 Blend, or Herb de Provence, Italian seasoning…You pick)
Pinch of ground mustard
4 cups of chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup of milk (whole, ½&½ …I use heavy cream or whatever you have on hand)
½ block of cream cheese, softened
2 tablespoons of cornstarch to thicken the soup
Salt and Pepper to taste
Toppings to try:
Cooked and crumbled bacon
Shredded cheese
Chopped chives
Dab of sour cream
Chopped cooked ham
Instructions
Melt the butter and add the chopped onion; cook until soft.
Add the cubed potatoes (no need to peel), corn, seasonings, and broth to a pot to combine. Simmer.
When potatoes are fork tender, stir the softened cream cheese into the soup until melted.
Whisk or blend the cornstarch into the measured cold cream or milk until smooth or no lumps. Stir to thicken.
If the soup gets too thick for your liking, add a splash or two of milk. (Chowders are a rich, hearty soup, so don’t be afraid to keep as thick as you like.)
Add the thickened milk mixture to the pot, stir to combine, and keep stirring until the soup thickens.
Simmer for a few minutes longer and serve with toppings of your choice.
Make it a full meal with leftover ham! This soup would also be great with sautéed shrimp or cooked chicken.
I like to serve this with a crisp salad and a favorite dressing. Crusty bread with soft butter or hot yeast rolls can’t be beat either–Enjoy!
P.S. In my new book, Finding the Meaning of Grief, you’ll find my go-to recipe for Dijon Mustard Salad Dressing (page 90), and another soup recipe to try is my Really Easy Tomato Soup (page 255).