Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Buying a Thanksgiving Turkey is like buying a pair of shoes…

I was out shopping yesterday for a’s like buying a pair of shoes. You have to find one that fits just right. Three stores later, I bought a fresh one at my local market. Now to check my spice cabinet to see if I have anything newer than the millennium.

I don't know about you, but I can already smell the turkey cooking in the oven and it's only Wednesday. I love turkey with homemade dressing, gravy, and all the yummy trimmings. And who the heck cares about the calories?

Not me. I love each and every one of them.

But the holiday is about more than enjoying a great meal.

It's also about remembering all those great meals (and the not so great) we had many Thanksgivings ago…

And being thankful for each and every one of them.

Like the time my mom made homemade mince pie and put too much spice with cloves in it. We gulped every lost drop of milk in the fridge trying to wash it down.

Or the time my Irish grandmother made her version of stuffing and added a pint of Guinness instead of chicken broth to the bread mix.

How about my Aunt Patsy who loved to make butter cookies and one of her red fake nails ended up in the cookie dough. My dad thought it was a decoration and tried to bite into it. Thank God he had good, strong teeth.

After so many disasters, we ate out for Thanksgiving. We loved to go to Knott’s Berry Farm here in So Cal (famous for their chicken dinners, but they do a great turkey day as well). One year my little brother ate too much, but that didn’t stop us from going on the roller coaster. He threw up all over my mom’s lap.

And I’ll never forget the Thanksgiving dinner I made for the troops. I was part of U.S. Army Special Services in Italy and we had Army and Air Force where I was stationed on a base near Florence. I swear the entire Southern European Task Force showed up when they found out I was cooking turkeys at the Service Club.

We started out with two turkeys and I ended up requisitioning more supplies for dressing and veggies. I can’t tell you the craziness of that day—and night—running back and forth between my little kitchen in the service club with my big, ole clunker stove and the mess hall (two of my Army guys jumped in and cooked a turkey for me in their big oven along with a giant pot of mashed potatoes); I even got the Officers’ Club in on the action and they cooked a turkey with their fancy dressing.

We served turkey and dressing, mess hall-style mashed potatoes with bucket loads of gravy and peas to the troops who wandered in from the afternoon till midnight. Every one of the guys came in hungry and left a happy man.

And that was the best Thanksgiving of all.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!


Check out my Holiday Erotic Novella "A Naughty Christmas Carol" 
What if Scrooge was a sexy hunk with a smart phone?


Wynter Daniels said...

I'm smelling my turkey cooking, too. I agree - so much of Thanksgiving is the memories. The holiday makes me think of relatives now gone, with whom we used to share the day.

Jina Bacarr said...

Thanks, Wynter! And then there are the leftovers...but that's for another blog.

Wishing you and your family a wonderful Thanksgiving!! And here's to many happy memories for this year.