“What’s for dinner?”

I am asked this question without fail at least once daily, sometimes more.

Meal planning has been somewhat of a conundrum for me since Steve died, compounded by A leaving for school.

Before, dinner was the one meal a day that we always ate together. No matter how crazy the schedules, no matter what directions we were going in, we managed to sit down at the table together every day, even if it was just to slam down a piece of takeout pizza, although most of the time, I did try to make a fresh meal, or at least have something ready to go in the crock pot, to maximize the quality time we had together.

After, sitting down at the table was too painful a memory to deal with daily. Combined with kids with driver’s licenses and no-longer-coordinated efforts to get everyone out the door, and well, my meal planning fell by the wayside.

I’ve tried a few approaches in the last few years. I tried making a big batch of food, parceling it out in individual containers, ready to be reheated when ready. Unfortunately, after a day or two, containers got shoved to the back of the fridge and forgotten about, and I found myself throwing them out in a week.

I tried making assorted components and letting them have options. I would grill a bunch of chicken breasts and chop them up. Then, the fixings for salads or sandwiches or quesadillas were also in the fridge, ready to be turned into whatever they felt like making. This was hit or miss. A certain meat-a-tarian was likely to eat all of the meat and none of the fixings, leaving his siblings to bicker over meatless entrées.

I even tried making them take more ownership of meals, each delegated to planning and cooking a simple meal once a week. This was by far the least successful plan.

We also tried meal kits, which were somewhat successful, but often times ill-proportioned. The stuff we really liked always seemed to come in smaller quantities than the stuff that didn’t go over so well.

Throughout our busy sports seasons, unfortunately, our go-to meal plan sometimes ends up being concession stand food, and I’m forever grateful for the parents who take the time to donate a pot of soup or chili, or anything other than hot dogs or pizza.

One thing that remains the same through all of these maneuverings, though, is that my kids never go hungry.

The answer to “what’s for dinner” may sometimes be “whatever you feel like making for yourself,” or “dig through the refrigerator and find something,” but it is never “nothing.”

It bothers me so much to know that there are parents out there who have no choice but to say that to their children, and I know their children are asking just as much as mine are. I suspect that things are getting worse for many families, both as the economy changes and as the winter months loom.

One thing I’ve noticed frequently circulating in my social media feeds are the “feel good” stories about the teacher who starts keeping a stash of snacks in her classroom, or the bus driver who leaves bags of food in a seat where he knows a child looks hungry every day. There are similar stories about “magic coat closets” where those in need can help themselves. Most of the time, my friends sharing these stories are teachers, counselors or other school personnel.

Something tells me that these folks are seeing something that maybe the rest of us are better able to turn a blind eye toward. Something tells me that many of our teachers are doing the same kinds of things in their own classrooms, and probably out of their own pockets.

Food insecurity is much more prevalent than many of us realize, and as local food service providers start to announce cutbacks and changes to their distributions, it is probably going to get worse.

Unfortunately, there is a certain shame that goes along with not being able to provide food for a family, and people often go to great lengths to hide or ignore their needs, and sadly, kids are frequently the most hurt by this.

Whether we want to admit it or not, we are still a country where a decent number of people, especially kids, go to bed not bothering to ask what’s for dinner, because they already know the answer.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News