Thanks Giving
I had this great idea a week ago. It was the idea that if I started early, I would be able to pace myself being that this is my first time EVER to prepare the Thanksgiving feast. In the past I had no idea how much work went into the feast and I didn't lift a finger to contribute. For that I offer my sincere apologies. Later I began to recognize the exhaustion of the host as a symptom of a project that must've taken a lot of work and volunteered my services in the clean-up. Most recently living in Richmond, every year I would ask, "Do you want me to bring anything?" to the feast for nearly fifty relatives and Dale would quickly say, "No, no, you don't have to bring anything, they've got it," and give a nod to his mother like he had *handled* it. I never was offended by this because generally I had to work that night or the night before and knew it would be difficult to juggle the stress of bringing anything to the table that didn't compare to the down-home goodness that we've all come to know and love. (One year I did bring little pilgrim hats made from striped shortbread cookies upside-down a chocolate dipped marshmellow on top, and a little yellow buckle made from frosting. They were cute. Not much of a contribution, but cute.)
This year, I have accepted the fact that we are going to be all by ourselves out here and decided to compensate with the only permissible substitute, which is the same feast we would've had if we were *d0wn home*: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn, homemade rolls, dumplins, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and custard pie. So I thought it would be a good idea to start early and pace myself since I'm on my own. Last week I thought about making the pie crusts. Then Sunday I put it on the list to make the pie crusts. And Tuesday I really intended to get it done, but then I cleaned the tub instead but managed to quick mix up the crust and stick it in the fridge. When the hour was up, my pie crust still looked like biscuit dough, which made me nervous. So this morning I tried the recipe again and the results were the same. I don't know if every recipe makes four crusts, but I can't stand to waste that much stuff by some error, so I froze the dough in hopes of developing something fantastic later. And then I called in the cavalry, I called my mom. She read the recipe back to me and I had miscopied it; instead of 1 1/2 cups water, it should've been 1/2 cup water. *sigh* So I bought more flour and more Crisco and I tried it again and I gotta tell ya, I was pretty nervous.
I've never made a turkey. I've never made stuffing except for Stove Top. I've never made dumplins, not like Mawmaw's. With the first attempt already on shaky ground, I rocked my confidence. The big day is creeping up fast and there's no trial run on Thanksgiving.
My other great idea was to set a cookie sheet on the bottom shelf of the oven for spill overs so that I wouldn't be scrubbing out the bottom of my oven after a long day of slaving in the kitchen. So I set it in place, and then carefully set the pecan pie over it. After half the cooking time had passed I realized it wasn't going to spill over, and I moved the cookie sheet to the other side. Next I poured the custard into the pie crust and carefully covered the edges with foil, so proud of myself for thinking to cover it before I put it in the oven. The filling was nearly too high, but I love custard and assured myself that I could get it in without dumping it. When I picked up the tin, it dribbled down the side. No big deal. As I turned to set it on the oven rack, it ran in a steady stream down the cabinet, across the floor, down the oven door and then sloshed into the oven, pooling atop the cookie sheet and overflowing into the oven. *sigh*. This made me more nervous about the stuffing and turkey and gravy and everything.
The other three pies turned out to be very lovely, and they are pictured on the previous post because as a mother, I don't get many things accomplished and there aren't a lot of new tasks to master in these four walls, so I feel accomplished in this one thing. I know I can bake a pie.
I have been genuinely excited about this event since the passing of Halloween. In a way I feel like it's a rite of passage. I know, that might seem dumb because I'm thirty-one and I have six kids and I've been married almost as long as I was single. You'd think I would feel all growed up, but it's a flagship of womanhood to be able to achieve the impossible and survive, which I have to say, is trademark of the preparation of a Thanksgiving day feast, in my case anyway.
Today I baked the pies, made the stuffing, froze the dumplins, peeled the potatoes, prepared the sweet potatoes, made the rolls, and thawed the turkey. I think I'm ready for tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. My excitement has only been dampened by my current exhaustion, which I'm sure will reignite with the opening sounds of the Macy's Day parade.
So here's to all of you mothers: Mom, Dana, Grandma, my Aunt Kim, who have slaved over this event for hours and spent piles of money to make a feast for the rest of us to eat up and then take a nap without a thought, THANKS TO YOU. You're the real heroes.
This year, I have accepted the fact that we are going to be all by ourselves out here and decided to compensate with the only permissible substitute, which is the same feast we would've had if we were *d0wn home*: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn, homemade rolls, dumplins, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and custard pie. So I thought it would be a good idea to start early and pace myself since I'm on my own. Last week I thought about making the pie crusts. Then Sunday I put it on the list to make the pie crusts. And Tuesday I really intended to get it done, but then I cleaned the tub instead but managed to quick mix up the crust and stick it in the fridge. When the hour was up, my pie crust still looked like biscuit dough, which made me nervous. So this morning I tried the recipe again and the results were the same. I don't know if every recipe makes four crusts, but I can't stand to waste that much stuff by some error, so I froze the dough in hopes of developing something fantastic later. And then I called in the cavalry, I called my mom. She read the recipe back to me and I had miscopied it; instead of 1 1/2 cups water, it should've been 1/2 cup water. *sigh* So I bought more flour and more Crisco and I tried it again and I gotta tell ya, I was pretty nervous.
I've never made a turkey. I've never made stuffing except for Stove Top. I've never made dumplins, not like Mawmaw's. With the first attempt already on shaky ground, I rocked my confidence. The big day is creeping up fast and there's no trial run on Thanksgiving.
My other great idea was to set a cookie sheet on the bottom shelf of the oven for spill overs so that I wouldn't be scrubbing out the bottom of my oven after a long day of slaving in the kitchen. So I set it in place, and then carefully set the pecan pie over it. After half the cooking time had passed I realized it wasn't going to spill over, and I moved the cookie sheet to the other side. Next I poured the custard into the pie crust and carefully covered the edges with foil, so proud of myself for thinking to cover it before I put it in the oven. The filling was nearly too high, but I love custard and assured myself that I could get it in without dumping it. When I picked up the tin, it dribbled down the side. No big deal. As I turned to set it on the oven rack, it ran in a steady stream down the cabinet, across the floor, down the oven door and then sloshed into the oven, pooling atop the cookie sheet and overflowing into the oven. *sigh*. This made me more nervous about the stuffing and turkey and gravy and everything.
The other three pies turned out to be very lovely, and they are pictured on the previous post because as a mother, I don't get many things accomplished and there aren't a lot of new tasks to master in these four walls, so I feel accomplished in this one thing. I know I can bake a pie.
I have been genuinely excited about this event since the passing of Halloween. In a way I feel like it's a rite of passage. I know, that might seem dumb because I'm thirty-one and I have six kids and I've been married almost as long as I was single. You'd think I would feel all growed up, but it's a flagship of womanhood to be able to achieve the impossible and survive, which I have to say, is trademark of the preparation of a Thanksgiving day feast, in my case anyway.
Today I baked the pies, made the stuffing, froze the dumplins, peeled the potatoes, prepared the sweet potatoes, made the rolls, and thawed the turkey. I think I'm ready for tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. My excitement has only been dampened by my current exhaustion, which I'm sure will reignite with the opening sounds of the Macy's Day parade.
So here's to all of you mothers: Mom, Dana, Grandma, my Aunt Kim, who have slaved over this event for hours and spent piles of money to make a feast for the rest of us to eat up and then take a nap without a thought, THANKS TO YOU. You're the real heroes.
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