Turkey Anyone?

Have you ever seen, perhaps at a pot-luck dinner or a family reunion, a spread of so many appealing dishes of different foods that you literally would not know where to start except that someone pointed you to the end where you were supposed to begin? I mean, sure, that’s where the plates are, but if you were not to follow orders and stay in a nice line, where would you go first?

Many of us are more omnivores than carnivores, so the “meat first” conventional starter in those lines might not appeal as much as some vegetable casserole sitting half-way down the line and exuding a delicious aroma. And at the end of the line, a chocolate confection or maybe a pecan pie seems to be calling your name to start at the dessert section. Or what about those fresh-baked Parker House rolls, still warm, their tops shiny with butter? Otherwise, it might be the homemade dill pickles that you want to run to first, to make sure you get some before they’re gone!

We all have different tastes, and even if I’d head for dessert first, once September ends, I start craving turkey and dressing. I generally can’t order it in any restaurant then, but I crave it anyway. I could, of course, buy a twelve-pound bird and make a gallon of dressing like Mom always did, but then I’d probably get sick of it, and be eating it the whole month of October! Turkey demands a crowd. . .

Fixing a Thanksgiving turkey (or to cook one at any time of year) is a genuine MAJOR PRODUCTION for anyone, and the work doesn’t get any easier as the years go by: instead, for us older cooks, it gets harder and harder to manage, particularly for us who have arthritis in our hands or who endure back pain or have limited strength to wrestle a 16-pound bird, stuffing inside, and the weight of the roasting pan into a hot oven, and never mind trying to get it out later when it’s hotter than a firecracker! And yet since Grandma did it, we think we ought to be able to do it as well.

Yes, there’s always the son or grandson or nephew who offers to fry it instead, and yes, fried turkey can be delicious. But then there’s the stuffing, which just doesn’t taste as good when it’s not baked with the bird (either as genuine stuffing, put inside the cavity, or baked alongside the bird in the roaster). But to cook it or not and how is only the START of all the decisions to be made. . .

What ABOUT that stuffing? Should we make homemade cornbread first, and then use that for the stuffing, along with chopped giblets? Or would it be better to use white bread with browned hamburger or sausage this year? Maybe skip the chopped celery this year, and just use chopped onions and add some raisins? Or why not use dried cranberries in place of the raisins in the dressing?

Oh, but then we’ve got the subject of cranberries on the mind: do we make a cooked cranberry sauce ourselves? Or use Grandma’s gelatin salad recipe with pineapple and pecans? And if I make a homemade cranberry dish, do I still need to buy canned cranberry sauce as well? Someone is bound to say they prefer the Ocean Spray stuff in a can, but then whole berry or the one that’s pureed and gelled?

OMIGOSH! I’ve already used up over half of my column space, and I haven’t yet considered the white potatoes (mashed or scalloped?), the sweet potatoes (marshmallows on top or not?), the green vegetable (maybe do a spinach dish this year instead of that green bean mushroom casserole?), rolls (Hawaiian or homemade? If homemade, white flour or whole wheat?), and whatever shall I make for a salad? AND NEVER MIND ALL THE CHOICES FOR DESSERT!

Dear friends: Just imagine what our mothers and grandmothers (or fathers and granddads who do the cooking) go through year after year when they are in charge of baking the turkey and organizing the feast. Year after year, I’d worry about my late mother, who always seemed to get depressed around the holidays, and now, looking back, I think I have a better understanding of why: there was so much genuine anxiety and stress of making all these decisions and doing all this work at home when she was, after all, working eight-hour days (or longer) at her hospital or clinic job, as well as trying to keep the household fed and all of us wearing clean clothes.

This year, if you enjoy a Thanksgiving meal prepared by someone else, please be especially certain to express your gratitude to the cook/organizer, and at least offer to help clean up afterwards. It’s a meal fraught with potential missteps along the way, with everybody’s preferences impossible to satisfy at once, and often with little help in the days beforehand.

While we’re always supposed to be grateful at Thanksgiving for what we have, I am always most grateful that I am not the one in charge of the cooking! Happy Thanksgiving, friends, and God’s blessings to us, one and all!