I can't believe I haven't told you about my family's Thanksgiving traditions yet. I truly believe it is the meal that we always did right. It could be due to a truly WASP-y upbringing or just an all out love of food but Thanksgiving was always my favorite eating holiday.
Until my Grandmother passed away, Thanksgiving was always at her house and it wasn't until last year that I even got to experience it with my family in another place. So when I talk about my Thanksgiving memories... it is over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go. We start with a turkey so big that nothing else will fit in the oven. The side dishes are prepared next door at my aunt and uncle's house or brought with guests. There is stuffing baked inside the bird and out (for those fearing improperly cooked stuffing in the bird might send someone to the hospital). We have mashed potatoes (my job in later years), squash (has to be some specific kind but I forget which) and green beans (but not green bean casserole). The homemade rolls came from my mother's oven, as she was the only family member who apparently ever wanted to tackle yeast breads, and usually a couple kinds of quick breads from other contributors. Fruit salad was always the kind doused in whipped cream and a small bowl had to be set aside without the bananas for my cousin's wife. With all that we were generally ready for dinner around 1PM, an early round one.
Eating commenced and finished. The dishes were begun. And the fudge and other snacks were brought out to keep us full while we waited for pie. Originally, my Great Aunt and Uncle were there and that meant penuche, a brown sugar fudge studded with walnuts. My family's contribution was chocolate fudge and my aunt's side brought the rice crispy treats. At some point, after my only successful chemistry experiment where I learned the science of fudge, I started to bring peanut butter fudge. And later, after Great Aunt Ella was gone my brother learned to make the penuche which I assure you is a whole story unto itself.
Once the first round of dishes were done and enough forks were back in rotation, it was time to begin bring on the pies. Pumpkin pie, always. Apple pie, always. And lemon meringue, always. We had years with more than one kind of pumpkin where my brother and sister-in-law made one from an actual pumpkin instead of the can but the tried and true recipe was always right there with it.
More dishes and an other stab at the fudge bar or perhaps more accurately the fudge credenza. Some family time and the obligatory football on TV comes next. We are all still at Grandma's house when people start to feel a twinge for something other than sugar and all the leftovers come back out of the fridge. Grandma was happy to get rid of the leftovers and also always had some Pringles on hand to go with the turkey sandwiches and other mini piles of food on our plates.
Paper plates used for the second round of eating meant shorter down time before the last bout. But what more could there be, you ask? Why of course, cake. My birthday and later on my sister-in-law's fell dangerously close to Thanksgiving. So the icing on the cake of the Thanksgiving day was actually the icing on the cake. Strawberry cake with strawberry icing to be precise. It was not until later in life that we seemed to all come to our collective senses and leave the cake behind but I would like to note that that only meant we ate more pie. I don't think we were saving any one's diet.
So as the holiday approaches and I live with dread and fear because I work at a bakery on Thanksgiving week... I will try to remember where I came from and all the great memories for which I am thankful.
