I
was out shopping yesterday for a turkey...it’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!
Jina
What if Scrooge was a sexy hunk with a smart phone?
2 comments:
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.
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.
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