The Perfect Thanksgiving
by Valerie Nusbaum
When I’m writing, I dictate my notes and thoughts into a digital recorder to be organized and typed at a later date. I carry my recorder with me at all times, because I never know when a good idea will hit me. I’m well aware that as quickly as an idea comes, it can disappear even more swiftly in the sieve that is my memory. I dictated this entire column while I was walking on the treadmill. Only this morning as I sat down to type my notes, did I realize that my batteries were dead. Apparently the batteries were dead while I was making my audio notes. Just like that, a very funny column is gone, and I’m left with a thread that I can’t quite grasp. Trust me, you would have laughed a lot.
I intended to give you, dear readers, some tips and pointers on creating the perfect Thanksgiving. What qualifies me to give that kind of advice, you ask? At least twenty-five years of less-than-perfect meals and celebrations. I’ve learned from my mistakes and failures. The following suggestions should—at the very least—give you something to chew on.
Thanksgiving is about two things: food and football. Don’t let all that family stuff fool you. Uncle Bob only shows up for the sweet potato casserole. Concentrate on getting everyone fed and parked in front of the television, and you’ll avoid a lot of the drama.
Since turkey is the centerpiece of the Thanksgiving meal, you’ll want yours to be a stunner. The problem is that the turkey is supposed to look gorgeous and still be moist and tender. Here’s how to accomplish that feat: In early September, craft a papier mache turkey from aluminum foil and paper. Paint it a beautiful golden brown and use varnish to give it that glistening, buttery effect. You can make the turkey as large as you want. It won’t be heavy at all. Store your fake turkey somewhere safe. Meanwhile, go ahead and cook a real turkey on Thanksgiving morning (or overnight if that’s the way you do it). When the time comes to start eating, have all your guests be seated around the table. Stand at least ten feet away in the doorway while holding your stunning fake turkey on a platter, surrounded by plastic fruits. Give everyone a few seconds to “oooh and aahh,” then announce that you’ll be carving in the kitchen. Make appropriate sounds with the cutlery while your guests pass the rolls and argue about who should get the tea set from Aunt Frances. When you come to the table carrying the platter, holding your sad, overcooked bird, everyone will think it’s delicious because it looked so lovely. Please remember not to serve the plastic fruit and to hide your faux turkey. If Grandpa finds the fake one—no matter how much he’s already eaten—he
will break off a leg and try to eat it.
If you have an after-dinner activity planned for the lull before dessert is served, this will give your relatives something to do other than grill the girlfriend who’s joining the family for the first time. Pass out sheets of white paper and crayons and have everyone draw a “hand” turkey by placing the non-dominant hand on the sheet of paper, with the thumb extended and the four fingers slightly spread. Have your guests trace around the outline of the hand and then color in the “turkey.” Just make sure you’re using a tablecloth you don’t care about. This activity will keep folks occupied long enough for you to medicate yourself with your favorite cocktail or the leftover cooking sherry. You can offer a prize for the best turkey or you can let everyone make fun of each other. If you really don’t care about your tablecloth, you can also let guests connect the dots, i.e., gravy spills and cranberry sauce stains.
Speaking of cranberry sauce, don’t fool with making it from scratch. It tastes awful and hardly anyone likes it. Open a can and save yourself some heartache. Use a frozen sweet potato casserole and make it your own by putting it in a lovely baking dish. Ditto the mashed potatoes. Bob Evans makes very good microwaveable potatoes. Add some sour cream and chopped chives on top. They’ll think you’re a gourmet. Seriously, older people don’t see well and little kids only want dessert. Why stress yourself? Mountain Gate has delicious stuffing and you can buy it by the quart.
I agree one hundred percent that homemade tastes best, and if that’s what makes you happy, by all means do it all yourself. Sometimes I prefer to go that route, too. Sometimes, cooking seems like the right way to show my loved ones how much they mean to me.
I’ve never actually seen the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, because I’ve spent the last twenty-five Thanksgivings either in the kitchen or on the road, but I plan to check it out this year. Whatever you do, I hope your holiday is all you want it to be and more. Happy Thanksgiving!
Speaking of things we’re grateful for, I had the pleasure of meeting fellow-leftie Janet Owens and her sister at this year’s Catoctin Colorfest. Thanks, Janet, for your kind comments about my column. I’m thankful for all my readers.
