My husband and I lead busy working lives.  We strive to (and mostly successfully achieve) a healthy balance between being hard at work, and thereafter, devoting quality, undivided time to our two girls (7 and 11). Often, this time naturally revolves around the evening meal. Admittedly, between Monday and Friday, a ‘sit down meal’ with all four of us present around the table happens later than what may be deemed universally acceptable. Between finishing work, and then homework/play, I admit to my children tucking into a ‘yucky-bits-free’ homemade lasagne in their pyjamas while I remind them that this is their supper, considering it is already 8pm and a school night. 
What my children eat really matters to me, and this is matched with the enjoyment I get out of preparing family meals when I can. One child has a serious aversion to textures, colours, lumps, bumps, you name it! She will happily eat mince in burger shape, but never the exact same mince in meatball shape. The younger one is going through the “I’m full up” after two spoons phase. This can often lead to a sense of total deflation for me personally, after making such an effort to prepare the ‘from scratch’ nutritious meal. Hell, there may even have been a candle lit for the occasion – this is when dinnertime means serious business, and they know it. 
Between having off-the-scale fussy eaters, and the added pressure I have imposed by ensuring the ultimate ‘quality time’ happens at the dinner table, the results have more often been disastrous. Tears, tantrums, 2-minute interactions with a dinner that took almost an entire evening to prepare. 
The first thing I needed to change was my own personal expectations of the occasion itself.  This made the most immediate difference to the dinnertime experience for everyone.  I consciously decided to scrap my own ‘ideal’ version of what dinner time ought to look like, regardless of the effort I may have gone to in pre-blitzing the ‘yucky bits’ or extracting a million pieces of chopped cooked onion.  This pressure on the kids simply had to go.  Regardless of the effort that goes into the prep, I remind myself to go with the flow.
I continue to involve the girls in the preparation at the weekends, but on my own terms, which I feel is also OK. This may involve the chopping of a pepper or a cucumber, with a relatively blunt knife, under strict supervision. I give them whatever jobs I can manage to give, such as setting the table, preparing drinks, or chopping. The reality for us is that involving the kids wholesomely in every stage of preparation, and on every occasion, just doesn’t work. When we are all starving and it’s already gone 7pm, terms of involvement are important. Preparing dinner alone is often a therapeutic process for me too - there is no doubt that being left occasionally alone in the kitchen makes me a better person.
Allowing the children to choose the dinnertime music can also help them remain at the table for that little bit longer! We take turns listening to their play lists.
Baby steps are important, particularly when it comes to fussy eaters and avoiding the stress that can cause around the dinner table. 
I still separate new food choices on their plates – with a child who would only eat plain pasta for 6 years after being weaned, pasta in pesto as the only option was not going to go down well. It took 4 tries to get her to try the new character on the plate. After that, I added a dash of pepper and, eventually, a tad of grated cheese. Her palate, which initially resisted, gradually accepted, and appreciated the added seasoning. Baby steps. It allows a child to still succeed (with the food they do eat), rather than eating nothing at all.
I present buffet-style options whenever possible – they are far more likely to try it if they get to choose it.
I offer two reasonable choices on the presentation of food to my two fusspots – (“Would you prefer plain or dressed pasta?”  “Mashed or diced potatoes?” “Would you like sweetcorn on the side or mixed in?”). Doing this deflects from the point blank ‘no’, to an ‘option A or option B’ focus. 
I also try to remind myself to keep perspective - there are many children who have survived just fine on nothing but breakfast cereal for the first 10 years of their lives, only to enjoy their fair share of exotic food by their twenties and beyond!  We generally all thrive in time and without comparison.
I’ve found as a Mum of two and someone who is also guilty of looking towards family mealtime as the ultimate definition of ‘perfection’ and work-life balance, that my own expectations were at the detriment of us all. They only served to add unnecessary pressure. 
I try to ensure that my own expectations of my children during mealtimes are realistic. They may not be yet fully equipped to remain seated for the entire time it takes me or my husband to finish our meal. Instead, I now allow them to leave the table to take their plate to the dishwasher, or to do what they can to prepare anything else, such as desert (on the weekends, in our case).
I also reassure them that I trust them to know when their own tummies are full.  Yes, this often contradicts their sudden hunger for dessert, but I gently remind them that their tummy needs longer to rest after declaring it was full only 30 seconds before. I’ve stopped saying “just 3 more bites,” or “you can do better than that” or “you’ve hardly touched it!”
Expectations can rise further when the dinner table is in a restaurant – it might be a special occasion, with an audience. While etiquette is every parent/guardian’s responsibility to teach and demonstrate, the occasion may be too important to apply one set of stringent rules. Remain sensitive and open minded when determining what your boundaries and expectations are at the dinner table (whether in a fancy restaurant or at home).  
Dinnertime should be a positive, enjoyable, pressure-free experience for everyone. Food is our fuel, and nutrition is of course important, but dinnertime should also enrich and enhance our interactions with each other. Lowering my own general expectations has worked wonders for us. After all, nobody is going to die of malnutrition or scurvy having not touched the veggies.