Here comes Thanksgiving, with my annual
Turkey Panic. Is there anyone else who has reached a ripe old age and, having
prepared Thanksgiving dinner for what seems like eons, still gets her knickers in
a twist over baking that great huge bird?
There was the time my ten year old
daughter opened the oven so many times to baste the turkey that it took eight
hours to cook. There was the time when I roasted it at home and brought it to
my younger daughter’s apartment an hour’s drive away, only to find it stone
cold and dried out on arrival. There was the year that my older daughter became
a vegetarian because she didn’t want to eat anything that “had eyes and could
look at me.” She was delighted with her
Tofurkey, but the rest of us felt weirdly guilty feasting on our succulent
bird. Then there was the time when my younger daughter ordered a complete
dinner from Whole Foods because she would be coming home from the hospital with
her new baby on Thanksgiving Day.
“Put your forks down,” declared my
son-in-law, brandishing a ladybug he had found in the stuffing. “We can’t eat this!”
Thawing a frozen turkey was always
problematic, so I decided to order a fresh one, only to find it icily solid,
fore and aft. I telephoned the butcher
in a panic. He told me to immerse it in lukewarm water for an hour and a half
on each side; it felt like giving a bath to a wrinkled baby.
When the family is all at the table
and we are saying grace at last, it is always, always worth it. In 2001, in
spite of the enormous tragedy of 9/11 and my husband’s death the year before, our
hearts were full of thanksgiving for two new arrivals in the family. My granddaughter had been born on September
18 and then, in October, my younger daughter and her husband underwent an
arduous trip to Ukraine to bring my seven year old grandson safely home. The
first time he saw a potato he wanted to peel it and cook it. He only spoke
Russian, but it was clear to us that he
had spent a lot of time in the orphanage kitchen.
He was puzzled by the turkey on his
first American Thanksgiving, but wolfed down a big serving of the mashed
potatoes he had prepared himself. Then, with an enormous grin, he realized that
he could ask for more.
(Written for http://geezerguysandgals.blogspot.com
for November 21, 2012)
wow great writing!!! i love the name of your blog! also you seem to have a lot of thanksgiving troubles!
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