Thanksgiving

December 5, 2006

I love Thanksgiving. My sheer happiness and appreciation of it cannot be expressed in mere words. It is a time of year when I stuff my face and have dessert and yell when I can't see the TV and nobody faults me for it. Oh sure, others may be able to act like this twenty-four-seven without consequence, but this is a special commodity for me.

First off, there are the turkey limbs. Notice I did not mention the breast or any other part of the bird. Those are leftovers meant for lunch and crock pots. The real prize is in the limbs. The wings are tough and chewy while the legs have the best meat in my opinion. The mad rush usually has someone bemoaning their lack of a chance at it. I generally win the fight. I expect when the little brother is actually larger than I am this is going to spell trouble.

Afterwards, the family waits in the line for the usually battle tested veterans of the table. Mashed potatoes, baby carrots in ginger, green bean casserole, all made to perfection and in the exact amount. The same pots are used for the same things every year and yield the same results. Sometimes I wonder is it was accidentally done this way or if Mom channels facts similar to all-star statistics on her head while shopping. “Hmm, Dad is the only one who eats cranberries, so I’ll get one pack of that. I could get the same amount of pumpkin mix and potatoes as I usually do, but the Aunts are coming over and I need enough for leftovers…” However she does it, it always works and everyone gets as much of their favorite as they want, with some for later. Except for the aforementioned turkey leg problem.

And there are always leftovers. The one big meal means Mom isn’t going to cook for the next week at the very least, so you better hope you didn’t eat all the carrots. The turkey is eaten till it’s almost bare bone, at which point it goes into a pot with beans and broth to make soup, which always last well into the New Year. The pumpkin pie and whipped cream are hoarded, and it becomes a free-for-all as dessert becomes more scarce with the last of the Halloween candy disappearing. Mom's not a big dessert person, so you have to take it when you can get it, and every man for himself.

Our Thanksgiving reflects America in general a little better than I think Mom likes. Dad sits at the head of the table, but closest to the TV and possibly goes over about halfway through dinner to better evaluate the game, much to her eternal annoyance. There is conversation and fun and glares of ‘be polite or else’. Grand times are had by all. My only true regret is that it’s is now referred to as Christmas: Part One if one is to believe the advertising people. Which is sad, because it's really a lovely holiday all by itself.

Name: Minerva, Goddess of geeks. Age: 14 Occupation: Writing food essays, going to school and driving Mom crazy. Hobbies: Collecting quotes, petting dogs, messing up my friend's hair and annoying my Mom. Life so far: Born. Made it through middle school alive. My Favs: Ice cream, my dog, .hack , 3rd period, the Daily Show, british humor. anime, the Discovery Channel and my iPod. My Minions: my dog, Duke, Phil the Wizard Monkey of Oz, Ed Elric and Patsy Stone.

Email questions or comments for these two young women to webmaster@drgourmet.com.