Regularly Scheduled Dinner--Maybe
I do Thanksgiving dinner. Actually, I’ve done it 35 times so
I’ve been preparing it regularly since before my children were born.
Supposedly, it’s “my” holiday. The only two I missed were when my great-aunt
invited my family to join hers (and to bring my in-laws), and last year, when
it came out 6 weeks after my granddaughter was born—she was deemed a little
young to travel.
But back to my dinner. It’s a blend of traditional
turkey/stuffing/cranberry sauce (the usual) with traditional Jewish foods.
Potato latkes are a staple and I’ve also been known to serve derma—a stuffing
of meat and some form of grain that’s part of a sausage—although that has kind
of stopped since we don’t seem to have a decent kosher delicatessen in the
area. In the last few years, my older daughter has become the fastest potato
peeler anywhere, which makes the latkes a lot easier to do, and my younger
daughter consults on the desserts. Everyone offers suggestions for sides. And I
improved the turkey when I heard Bobby Flay recommend adding chicken stock to
the bottom of the pan. I do that twice—at beginning of cooking and in the last
hour—and my husband is singing its praises. Who knew it could be that easy?
The strength in Pyrex
This past Thanksgiving, I had another mission. My
granddaughter was past 13 months old and I decided it was time for her to walk.
Total success. She arrived here crawling 80% of the time—we reversed that and
she left walking 80% of the time. Now she’s almost up to running. Plus, there’s
a step down from the kitchen to the family room. She figured that out on her
own—although after managing to go down head first and hitting herself. She’s a
quick study. She also moves around with a twinkle in her eye that says, “I know
you don’t want me to do this but I’m going to try anyway; going to stop me?”
Usually, unless it’s dangerous, we don’t because even falling down is a
learning experience. The best one came when she realized she could open two
cabinet doors at once—walking gave her a new level of reach—and bang them
together. She loved it. But, when she managed to pull most of a set of Pyrex
bowls out and let them fall onto the floor, even she scared herself. However,
it seems that Pyrex when dropped 6 inches is pretty indestructible.
Fortunately, it didn’t fall on her very small foot. Once she realized she was
fine and there were no terrible repercussions, it was back to door banging. She
loved that. Unfortunately, she had to leave, so we’re back to Facetime every
weekend, and sometimes during the week. Now that walking was so successful, when we go out in February I'm going to work on getting her talking more. It's time.
Small explosion
On Thanksgiving night, though, after the food was eaten, and
leftovers put away, and while the baby was playing with everyone – did I
mention that she knew within 15 minutes who her great-aunt was in the room, and
who her great-grandmother was? If you asked her, she knew who to look at, which
we thought was, was usual, brilliant—I dropped a small grenade into the room.
Not even the hubby knew it was coming. It was my last Thanksgiving. It’s not an
easy meal to plan, or put together –making the latkes alone, which is done same
day, usually takes at least an hour and a half. Plus, I think it needs new
blood. I’m happy to buy the food for whatever menu others want, but I’m not
getting up so early again to cook it. And
my arthritis is really not happy with me that weekend. After 35 dinners, it’s
time for me to hang up my potholders and let someone else take it on. I’d even
be happy to cater it, if I know what people want; or to go to a restaurant and
let them serve it. We won’t discuss the whole set up and clean up issue. I’ll
know the verdict on what we do in August, because plans still have to be made.
Otherwise, it’s going to be a really small dinner for hubby and I. I'll be able to watch the entire parade.
