Bringing Back The Sunday Supper
A long-ago weekly tradition of gathering, connecting, and making room at the table.
When I think of Sunday dinner, I think of my grandmother.
Before leaving for church on Sunday mornings, she would put a roast in the oven. By the time everyone returned from services, dinner was ready, and its aroma filled the house; the kind of meal for which no one needed to be called twice.
Thankfully, my mother continued her tradition.
These Sunday dinners were rarely about elaborate entertaining. It was simply understood that everyone would gather at the table. Once a week. Every week.
Friends joined us around the table. And neighbors were often included. It was laden with enough food to share, and conversations lingered long into the afternoon. This one Sunday meal marked the close of one week and the beginning of another.
Lately, I’ve found myself wondering whether it might be time to bring The Sunday supper back.
Not as an obligation. Not as a perfectly styled table or a complicated meal in an otherwise busy week.
But as a rhythm. A standing invitation to gather.
One meal, each week, or even once a month, that invites family, friends, and perhaps neighbors to pull up a chair, and sit for a while.
When Sunday Suppers Anchored the Week
Sunday dinner once held a recognized place in American home life.
In an 1891 book, What to Eat, How to Serve It, author Christine Terhune Herrick described the Sunday dinner as “the big dinner” of the week. Often served midday on Sundays when there was time to linger and enjoy it.
I love that she also recognized the cook’s need for a day of rest and encouraged readers to prepare as much of the meal ahead as possible.
Her wish for the Sunday table was beautifully simple:
“[A] cheerfulness, a pleasant freedom of speech… that ought to render it the happiest meal of the week.”
— Christine Terhune Herrick
Herrick encouraged making room at the table for those who were alone, far from their own families, and might otherwise eat their Sunday dinner alone.
More than 130 years later, the invitation to a Sunday supper feels every bit as meaningful as I’m sure it did in 1891.
While our lives may look different today, families may be scattered (as mine is), and weekends may be filled with sports, errands, travel, and other obligations. But there may be Sundays when schedules align, or when we become aware of friends and neighbors who might welcome an invitation to gather.
Perhaps that is why a recurring Sunday meal feels so appealing.
A Sunday Supper For Every Week of the Year
In 1913, Elizabeth O. Hiller, founder and principal of the Chicago Domestic Science School, published Fifty-Two Sunday Dinners.
The book offered seasonal menus for every Sunday of the year. The introduction explains the goal was not extravagance but practicality, with menus designed to be seasonal, balanced, economical, and manageable.
Of course, I immediately found my way to August.
The menu for the first Sunday in August included Nova Scotia Canapés, made with smoked salmon, pan-broiled beef fillets, potatoes with lemon and parsley, peas and onions, a simple green salad, peach ice cream, coconut cake, and coffee.
While it may be more elaborate than most of us would make for an ordinary Sunday dinner today, the menu felt surprisingly familiar:
Salmon. Potatoes. Garden peas. Crisp lettuce. Ripe peaches. A slice of coconut cake.
These ingredients still belong to an August Sunday Supper table.
Recreating the 1913 Sunday Menu
Rather than replicate each course from the 1913 Sunday menu, I’ve created a simpler menu that feels special but entirely possible today.
The original menu served smoked salmon as a canapé and beef as the main course. For a modern twist, I’m letting the salmon take center stage.
The First Sunday Supper Menu
A modern main course with three sides and dessert ideas.
Main Course
Baked Salmon with Herb Cream Sauce:
This French-inspired salmon feels elegant and special for a Sunday table without requiring an afternoon in the kitchen. The salmon gently bakes beneath parchment for a soft, flaky texture and is finished with a simple herbed cream sauce featuring parsley, tarragon, and chervil (although you can easily substitute herbs found at your market).
The entree takes about 25 minutes from beginning to end, leaving plenty of time to set the table.
Side Dishes
Lemon and Parsley Potatoes:
The 1913 Carlsbad potatoes were boiled until tender and then finished with butter, lemon juice, paprika, and parsley. For our table, I’m using baby Yukon Gold Potatoes (much like my healthier Yukon Gold Potato Salad recipe). They can be roasted, air-fried, or boiled, then tossed while still warm with butter or olive oil, fresh lemon juice, parsley, salt, and a pinch of paprika.
Braised Peas with Lettuce and Mint:
This historical menu paired fresh peas with small onions, mint, cream, and lettuce. My braised peas with lettuce and mint are remarkably similar. They’re tender, fresh, and especially fitting for this menu.
Green Salad:
The original 1913 salad was made wth lettuce, onion, and peppergrass, and dressed simply. My modern take is a bowl of tender greens with thinly sliced onion and a light lemon vinaigrette. With fresh garden herbs or peppery watercress, it’s all this meal needs.
Desserts


This may be my favorite part of this historically inspired menu.
Hiller paired fresh peach ice cream with coconut cake, or cocoanut cake as she called it, a wonderfully summery ending that feels both nostalgic and celebratory.
My homemade Peach Ice Cream uses fresh peaches with cream, vanilla, brown sugar, and a hint of cinnamon. It can be churned on Saturday and tucked into the freezer until Sunday.
Serve small scoops beside slices of Coconut Cake. Or keep it especially simple and serve the ice cream on its own, perhaps with toasted coconut scattered over the top as a nod to this historic menu.
Coffee would, of course, be served as the final item on the 1913 menu.
Some traditions need no updating.
A Sunday Supper Preparation Timeline
The old menu guides always encouraged readers with one sensible idea: Sunday dinner should not require spending all day in the kitchen.
Here is how I would prepare this menu for a 1:00 p.m. Sunday dinner. You can easily adjust the times to suit your own table.
Saturday:
Bake the coconut cake. Cool, frost, and store as directed.
Make the peach ice cream. Churn and freeze overnight so it’s firm enough to scoop.
Prepare the vinaigrette. Wash and thoroughly dry the lettuce. Refrigerate in a covered container lined with a towel.
Gather the serving dishes. Set aside the salmon platter, potato bowl, salad bowl, and any linens or dishes you plan to use.
Sunday Morning:
11:30 a.m.: Set the table. Remove the cake from the refrigerator so it can come to room temperature before serving, and wash and prepare the potatoes.
12:10 p.m.: Prepare the peas, onions, and potatoes. Slice the salad onion and refrigerate with the greens, and preheat the oven.
12:20 p.m.: Begin cooking the potatoes. Prepare the salmon, shallots, butter, and parchment.
12:30 p.m.: Bake the salmon.
12:40 p.m.: Cook the peas and onions.
12:45-12:50 p.m. Transfer the salmon to a warm platter and make the herb cream sauce. Finish the potatoes with lemon and parsley. Then warm the peas and toss the salad with vinaigrette.
1:00 p.m.: Bring everything to the table. Dessert is already waiting in the freezer and on the cake stand.
Sunday Supper Doesn’t Have to Be Sunday Dinner
Historically, Sunday dinner was often served at midday. I’m calling this series Sunday Supper because it implies flexibility in our modern schedules.
Your gathering may happen following church, or late in the afternoon, or as the sun begins to set.
It may include a roast with potatoes and gravy as my grandmother’s did.
It may be a whole lemon-roasted chicken brought to the table in its roasting pan. My Greek Roasted Chicken with Lemon Orzo would make a beautiful Sunday Supper!
It may also be soup and homemade bread, a simple pasta, or something picked up on the way home and served on your good plates.
The menu matters less than the invitation.
Making Room at the Table
A seven-course dinner with formal service is probably neither possible nor desired every week.
But perhaps we can reclaim the essence, and the best part of those traditional gatherings, with:
An anticipated pause.
A table where people are expected and welcomed.
A meal where phones are set aside and conversations have room to meander, explore, and remember.
A place for family, friends, and neighbors.
It doesn’t need to be a weekly occurrence to matter. Begin once this month. Choose a menu that feels doable and manageable. Ask someone to bring the salad or dessert. And set out an extra plate.
Sit together and enjoy the company.
Here’s to bringing back Sunday Supper, and making it, once again, the happiest meal of the week.
Have a wonderful Sunday,
Stephanie




