11.19.2007

The First Thanksgiving


So ... it's here. All that's left is the shopping, cleaning, cooking ... and cleaning ... again.

But ... other than that it's pretty much all done.

Actually, the shopping is all done except for the bird. (Because I have a stupid side-by-side fridge, I cannot fit a frozen bird into the freezer, so for 16 years I have bought the bird on Tuesday. But hey ... at this point ... is like a warm and fuzzy tradition.) I am so looking forward to having Miss Ess-quire and the Gee's. The Dub's are going to Rhode Island and Sonny Boy and the Mrs. celebrated on Saturday in Spain. (Spain does not celebrate Thanksgiving, but they put together a traditional American meal for their Spanish and Norwin-ish(?) friends. It's a facinating read, but I wouldn't advise it right after a meal because ... well, let's just say that Butterball did not neatly package their bird ... and it came with a few left over feathers and a few two many ... innards.)

Which brings back fond memories of my first bird-on-my-own. It was 1976, we were living in Gaithersburg, Maryland and I was 5 months pregnant with #2. And perhaps a bit ... hormonal ... but who is to say ... really? I had carefully scoured magazines for recipes and I was a tad nervous ... one might even say ... wound a little too tight. My recipe called for Giblet Gravy and gave brief instructions as to where to find the giblets. I was home alone at the moment (PDaddy off to a "Turkey Bowl" organized by ... you guessed it ... men) and I could not find the giblets ... anywhere. The bird was near to pre-carved by the time PDaddy got home and convinced me that our bird just got packaged without them. (The next year when I saw them in that little bag, I thought ... hmmm, they are rather hard to miss.) The rest of the day was lovely ... but now that I think about it ... that daughter-in-utero turned out to be a vegetarian.

So ... I wish you all a relatively stressless week. May your jello jell and your gravy ... grave. (A long-time Ess-family adage.)

And what is your worst T-day horror story?
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11 comments:

Mrs. Dub said...

I have no horror story, and I to never have one because I plan on freeloading off of relatives and friends for years to come, thus avoiding ever baking anything myself short of a small side dish. And if I should ever be nominated to make the big meal, I'm opting for enchiladas.

Of course, there was the year I was sick (and not hungry!) on T-day. That was sort of horrible.

Mrs. Dub said...

... "I HOPE to never have one ..."

steph said...

no horror stories, but then, this was my first turkey day that i helped out with... and while i did a lot of the preparation, hubbs cooked most everything.

steph said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
P Daddy said...

My worst T-day horrors are dealing with yours...but the results are always worth it.

Glamma Fabulous aka Kelley Smith said...

My first time that I tried to make pumkin pie, it was burned on the top and guey in the middle. I have since used the recipe on the pumkin can and bought ready to use pie shells. Nothing is better to be that cold pumkin pie for breakfast following Thanksgiving. Have a wonderful Day Thursday, I'll be at the ASU game, supporting my husband, and oh ya, the team!

Jamie said...

My first attempt at a pie went horribly bad. I made a pecan pie, my old fave, and didn't know that the dumb tin-pie pan had a tiny HOLE in the bottom! To my horror, the pecan pie feeling (which as you know is like 90% caro syrup) leaked out into the fancy oven of my in-laws. So this syrup-ie mess was in baking in the bottom of their oven for at least 45 minutes. It smelled horrible and was a huge, burnt-on mess.

This year is my FIRST year to do the meal at my house for my hubby's fam...yikes! Wish me luck!

By the way, love your blog! I read it all the time. Sorry I don't comment more!

Jamie said...

Uh, yes. That would be pecan pie FILLING -- not feeling! I think the only feelings that day were my in-laws FEELING like I had screwed up big time!

Rhea said...

One year someone left the giblets in the bag inside the turkey and cooked it. We still ate the turkey though. It was fine.

Mary said...

Oh, what a funny story! Don't have any T-day horror stories but, like your daughter, I decide to become vegetarian every time I see those giblets. That lasts about two days...but I do think that Calvin Trillin had a good idea when he tried to get the official meal of Thanksgiving changed to Spaghetti Carbonara!

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
xoxo,
Mary

Jen said...

No horror stories yet here, but there's always that hope. . .

re your quilting comment on Mrs. Dub's: if you ever want to post tips on machine quilting with a regular machine or basting, that would be great. I can machine quilt small stuff, I would just like to do bigger ones on my little machine.

Love your blog, btw.