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The Show. Dad and I wake up early to pull the turkey we prepped Tuesday with butter and herbs; we want it to warm it up as much as possible before we put it in the oven. We have made our calculations, consulted various web-sites on our particular method of "low and slow" cooking, and we think we will spend 5 hours from start to finish. We put prosciutto on top of the turkey, and place it in a 450-degree oven for exactly 30 minutes. We reduce the temperature to 250 degrees and make a pact that we will NOT open that oven door except exactly on the hour until we hit the 5th hour. This method does not need basting and fiddling. It needs patience.
While the turkey cooks, I give my husband and dad the task of peeling the potatoes (I cook and mash them just before serving). My husband has taken all of the gingerbread pieces from the night before, and he has constructed our "house." Please note that a gingerbread house for Thanksgiving is not a traditional U.S. custom--it's an O'Hare custom. It's usually associated with Christmas, but not for us!
At 11 a.m., my father's friend Faye arrives with some beautiful glass bird ornaments for my girls--so gorgeous and thoughtful given our collective affinity for birds! Faye gave me my hummingbird feeder this year, so she gets the credit for my shots I've taken of various hummers this summer!
At noon, my mother arrives with her two friends Judy and Terry. Mom has made a delicious oyster ceviche and shrimp cocktail -- these are gobbled up immediately! Judy has provided us the wine and waters for the day, and Terry has roasted carrots, asparagus, beets, and tomatoes -- absolute heaven.
My friend Collin and her son Eric arrive with the desserts (for some reason, I missed photos of those because we ate them so much later--being stuffed and all): pumpkin pie and chocolate silk pie. One of the very special dishes Collin brings is "Correy's Sweet Potatoes" (top left photo). Some of you may recall some photos I have taken as tributes to Correy. She died far too young, and one of the very special things that Correy and I used to do on Thanksgivings is cook together—she was my sous chef for several years. She would help me plan and prepare the “non-traditional dish” and she would always make the sweet potatoes with toasted marshmallow topping.
This year, I thought to myself that Correy was my oldest daughter’s age the last Thanksgiving I cooked with her. She also got to witness me cuss out like a sailor when a dish she and I were trying to make (green beans cooked with milk of all things) overflowed and spilled everywhere. I just remember telling her, “Don’t tell your mom I just taught you all these cusswords.” What I would give to have her back with me again in the kitchen….
Before we gather at the table where I have worked to make an elegant presentation of silver, china, crystal (all from multiple generations of family members—as far back as late 1800’s), I ask everyone to gather around the kitchen holding hands and saying a blessing of Thanks. I ask my father to lead the blessing and he gives thanks for the friends and family among us, but reminds us that there are many that are still in need or are in pain at this time and that we should be mindful of their presence and have them in our prayers. My eyes always mist up at this time. I know I like to work toward a beautiful dinner for everyone, but it’s really that I know that holidays can be especially rough, and I’ve had my share of them in my life. I also just mourn losses at this time of year as much as I celebrate the joys in my life.
The rest of the day is gathering food on a plate, spending hours at the table talking and sharing (although, the first 5 minutes are silent—we’re all eating, eating, eating!). We get too full, and then we watch the kids demolish the gingerbread house that took about 4 days to bake, decorate, and assemble. It has a very short life, really.
And then the kids go out and play whiffle ball. We pour tea and coffee, and eat some more—remember, there are two pies. And then, some members of the party start to depart, and we work on dishes, and the kids start up the video games (the ones I banned while family was here), and we realize we are exhausted. Exhausted in the best possible sense of the word.
Here ends perhaps the longest Thanksgiving get-pushed entry in the history of get-pushed. Thanks to my partner Kali this week, I was able to do the things I love best: cook, take photos, and write. I don’t expect anyone to have read this far—this is not a writer’s project for most of you (as it is for me), but hotdog if you made it with me to the end.
I keep promising to take Linda to the truckstop for Thanksgiving so she won't have to cook!
@mzzhope It really was a great day. Thanks Hope.
@mlulu191 It was a delicious feast indeed!