This morning I rise early, thanks to three friendly wake up calls from our dogs. Downstairs, the Kitchen smells of tart cranberries and orange zest. The yearly Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade plays in the background as I prepare my morning cup of tea and breakfast. After my brothers rise, we dress and pack the car with pots of cranberries, turnips, and platters of stinky cheeses. We travel through winding roads lined with frosty trees and gray foggy ponds. Slowly more cars appear and trees become sparse, our destination nears and the excitement builds.
Upon arrival, everyone hugs and dives into the magnificent spread of hors d'oeuvres. In our family, we always joke that we should skip the feast and stick with the appetizers and pie. Spreads of various cheeses, fine meats, and shrimp cocktail, paired with crusty bread, and wine fill the Kitchen counters and tables. The turkey is basted to perfection and granny's beans simmer on the stove, as cousins steal a quick taste. Although we are happy to be together, I don't think anyone is as excited as the dogs. Tails wag, barks are shared, and tennis balls are tossed. And of course there is Prudence the pug, who feels too sophisticated to participate in such activities and requires a high perch on my mother's lap (also, a perfect view of the food).
After platters are emptied and lips turn red from too many glasses of wine, the real feast begins. Mashed potatoes, cranberries, turkey, gravy, and stuffing are passed around. One year, a tofurkey even made an appearance on our table, thanks to a very adventurous cousin. The dish that we all look forward to is granny's beans. A family recipe shared from my Uncle's Italian Grandmother. There is nothing quite like granny's beans! Plates are filled, as my youngest cousin makes her annual mashed potato and gravy volcano. We give thanks and finally the feast begins.
Eventually we are full, and just when we don't think we can eat another bite my Uncle presents his Thanksgiving pies. Apple, cranberry walnut, sweet potato, and chocolate pie...the decision is quite difficult and there are often "tastings" of each on my plate. Everyone sits around the fire watching football and slowly falling into a turkey coma. Although it is only seven o'clock it feels like midnight. After the cleanup is finished, coats are needed for an evening neighborhood stroll. The crisp November air suddenly perks everyone back to life, as we pass neighborhood homes filled with family and friends.
Soon after our return to the couch, the parents appear to shuffle everyone out the door. Once again, cars are filled and goodbyes are said. Thanksgiving is over, but the feast will continue for days. Turkey sandwiches, turkey pot pie, and turkey tetrazzini. And there will even be pie for breakfast, my father's favorite.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
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