The Feast has Ended
The menu of Thanksgiving Day is always pretty much the same each year. You eat the food that you remember from your childhood memories so there isn’t much to think about except the timing. I spent the morning before Thanksgiving picking up last minute ingredients that I forgot. Only to get home and discover that the 5 gallon bucket I purchased with the white top for brining the turkey has disappeared into my husband’s collection of useful tools. Heaven only knows what has been in that bucket since last Thanksgiving! Out to the hardware store for a new bucket and home to start the marathon baking session.
One 16 pound turkey set in the brine with top on tight is now sitting on the cellar stairs. Shoo the dogs out of the kitchen telling them over and over again the turkey that keeps bring them back in is not for them. Pie crust has been made and placed in the refrigerator, minus the piece that my cat Flip insisted in a loud voice he needed. He ate it and then understood I was not preparing a tasty morsel for cats.
Pecan pie not my normal pie fair just had a yen for trying something different, looks good in the oven. I move on to assembling the Cranberry Orange bread. I am not a lover of cranberry sauce although I do love this cranberry bread recipe. It is a dish that brings back a memory of one of the first times baking it. I was twenty, staying at my grandparent’s house during the Thanksgiving holiday. They lived on a farm and my grandmother was known for her baking and making of food for all who came to the house. Perhaps I was a bit worried that my bread wouldn’t measure up to my grandmother’s baking skills. I still can’t make a pie crust like she could. The bread had been place in the oven when it dawned on me. I had forgotten to add the sugar. I quickly pulled out the loaf pans and cut in the sugar mixing as best I could. It wasn’t the prettiest looking bread top you ever did see but at least it was edible.
Bread done, with all the ingredients added in the oven it went. With an hour to cook, it was time to take the dogs for their walk. My Great Dane Elera is notorious for snitching food off the counter. It is hard to resist the delicious smells that hit your nose not to mention that your head can sit on the counter. Last year, I was out walking the dogs while my lemon meringue pie cooled on the stove top. The dogs suddenly lifted there heads and took off running for the house. My husband saw only the dogs and wondered what happened to me, he came looking for me. When I saw him alone I asked where the dogs were. In a laid-back voice he replied “In the house.” By the time I got back half the meringue was gone and Elera was working on the lemon filling. My husband, feeling like that was his half of the pie ate from the dog side.
This time the walk was uneventful, bread cooling on the stove, and one lemon meringue in the oven. Elera sat watching every move I made in putting that pie together as I poured the lemon into the pie crust a fine Dane spittle was pouring out of the sides of her mouth down onto her chest with a slimy puddle on the floor. No pie this year I told her. I could hear her reply “Awww shucks!”
To save on early morning kitchen mess while company arrived I made the mashed potatoes set them in the refrigerator to chill over night and chopped the stuffing ingredients.
At 5:30 AM Thanksgiving morning, I rub my eyes make my way down the stairs to the delight of the dogs and cats who thought it was time to get feed. I banished them all to a bed or out the door till later much later. In my sleepy state I manage to spill only a small potion of the brine water as I lift the turkey in its 5 gallon pail up to the sink to pour it out. No problem that’s what I have dog towels for. As I assemble the stuffing for the turkey I discovered the one staple I can always count on in my household is missing. Raisins! Time to improvise and suffer the consequence later, I used prunes. What do you expect at 5:45 AM! With the bird in the oven and the time calculated sure all will be ready for 1 PM dinner. Back to bed I go.
7:30 AM the animal kingdom tells me I have over slept and it is time for them to eat. By late morning I smell the turkey and think “my, that smells awfully like a done bird”. At the same time the kid’s text to say they will be here at 12:30. With a thermometer I discovered that my nose was right the turkey is cooked. I let it sit while the table is being set; the rest of the food is prepared the stick the bird back in the oven for a quick browning.
Everything is served and a new memory ensues, my granddaughter of 9 month tastes her first turkey while sitting in a high chair refinished by her Opa. It is a chair that he and his sister sat in as well as our two children and now the next generation. With bellies full and clean up approaching I take my granddaughter upstairs to play my work for the fest is done. Our day continues when extended family members arrive for the traditional family walk and one more dog. It is a time to get caught up on everyone’s lives and to be grateful for the moment of the day. Desert and coffee are served at the dinner hour followed by a rousing family game full of laughter. Thus ends another day of giving thanks for all we have received in the past year. The feasting still goes on as we revel in the eating of leftovers.
This week, I travel to California, visit my daughter and son in-law, keep working on my book and write the story that has been floating around in my head for Winter Solstice celebration.