By Linda Lovely
I first published this Thanksgiving post in 2014. If any of our loyal readers remember that far back, please forgive the repeat. However, I'm delighted to report I have family visiting from today, Nov. 22, till Dec. 1, and I have tons of cooking to do before I put that 23-lb bird in the oven!
On my favorite holiday list, Thanksgiving has long run
neck-and-neck with Christmas for top honors. True, it doesn’t involve gifts or
a lighted Christmas tree, but Thanksgiving features the three ingredients most
important to me—family, fun, and feasting.
Some of my fondest childhood memories revolve around our
November gatherings. Thanksgiving was the one time of year every aunt, uncle,
and first, second, and third cousin living in a 30-mile radius descended upon
my cousin’s farm in Hamilton, Illinois. For Mom, my sister, and me that meant venturing
“over the river” (the Mississippi)—though we didn’t need to travel “through the
woods.”
We always entered the farmhouse through the back porch and
kitchen, where the smell of roasting turkey made me go weak in the knees. Of
course, my sister and I were shooed outside after we helped carry in our
contributions to the feast—Mom’s scalloped oysters and that year’s version of a
fancy cake. I should note here that no substitutions were allowed. Every
relative was expected to contribute the same fixings year after year. I’m not
sure what year this menu was fixed but it never deviated.
That meant the morning of Thanksgiving we always helped Mom roll
saltine crackers between sheets of wax paper to make crumbs and finger slimy
oysters in search of hidden shell fragments before she assembled her oyster casserole.
Mom did vary what cake she provided in the battered 9 x 13-inch aluminum pan
with sliding lid that was part of our travel arsenal. Mom searched newspapers
and magazines for festive cake recipes, which never involved icing but were nonetheless
rich and gooey. Assignments for other relatives included cranberry salad, creamed
corn, lima beans, green beans, made-from-scratch dinner rolls, boatloads of
gravy, pumpkin pies, and my Cousin Alma’s famous pecan pies. Ah, yes, Alma’s
pies (drool here) topped with real whipped cream.
Funny, but I never remember rain (or snow) on Thanksgiving.
In my mind, it was always sunny though often chilly. That made the big red barn
a certain stop for the under-age relatives who spent most non-eating hours outdoors.
Of course, the feast’s many courses did require a lot of dinner table time. One
table for children, another for adults.
I know this is a shocker for younger generations, but the
entire day—and early evening (we couldn’t leave without turkey sandwiches)—was
spent without watching TV, playing video games, texting, Facebooking or
tweeting.
What did we do? Rode ponies (and pigs, but that’s another
story). Chased chickens. Cuddled kittens—there always seemed to be a new litter
hiding in the hay in the barn. We also walked through the fields, and searched
for (and always found) geodes in the stream bed. Later we smashed the geodes on
the sidewalk to see the pretty glitter inside.
I know memory is a funny thing. But I never recall any of my
relatives quarrelling. I only remember the laughter. And, I remember the
intoxicating smells. I live hundreds of miles away from that farm today. But
I’m thankful that this Thanksgiving, like most, we’ll have a dozen people at
our dinner table. We’ll go outside for walks, and, weather depending, maybe
take a boat ride. I’m also thankful I have Alma’s recipe for pecan pie—a dish
I’m required to provide year after year.
I hope your Thanksgiving memories—the ones past and the ones
yet to be made—are equally happy.
4 comments:
Linda, while I'm not currently involved in any part of Thanksgiving by my choice I do have fond memories of finally being old enough to really help fix the dinner. My first duty after helping set the table was to "stuff" the celery with pimento cheese and also arrange the celery, carrot sticks, olives (black and filled which I think are green), bread and butter pickles and gherkins in the divided dish just for this occasion. I eventually graduated to being able to help make the apple, bacon, sage dressing the night before.
Funny how food traditions come into being. My mom always made the apple, sage, bacon dressing for the turkey, always made giblet gravy but some years she made cranberry sauce from scratch and I remember some "interesting" sweet potato recipes that never reappeared after that one showing -
As an adult I always brought the pies: pumpking, apple (sugar free at times), and mince meat along with whipped cream (from scratch and then from a can). If Thanksgiving was close to my birthday, Mom would make a chocolate cream pie (my favorite) just for me.
While those memories are fond ones, I will admit to looking forward to a quiet day, maybe a few phone calls from granddaughters who will have day off and my son and maybe a couple of friends. If it's cold, I can build a fire; curl up with a good book and a mug of hot tea. At some point I'll put my book down, stare into the flames and recount all my blessings. That will take some time because I am very blessed in many ways.
Happy Thanksgiving to you, Linda!
Happy Thanksgiving to you, Judith! I can appreciate your choice. Sounds lovely. But I'll keep doing the 20-plus pound turkey as long as I can. Will rest the next week!
Lovely memories, Linda! I hope our younger generations have similar memories when they tell their stories.
We usually had my Aunt Jean's family over for the weekend. They drove up to Sunnyvale from Los Angeles, 400 miles! We had four cousins to play with, and boy did we have fun!
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