I suppose I should close with something thoughtful about how thankful I am. Well, I am thankful that I have a big, loud family that somehow seems to get along. For that I think we can thank the grandmas, in particular Grams' saying: "Children, do you love each other? Are you kind and true? Do you do unto others as you would have others do unto you?" Yes, that saying solicited groans. But the mantra seems to work. I hated it when I was little, but I am totally using it on my kids someday.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Thanksgiving this year was a group effort. One in which others cooked and I ate. I spent the whole of Thanksgiving eating, playing pitch, eating, playing black jack, eating, riding in the backseat while my 15-year-old sister got her second driving lesson from my dad, eating, napping, eating, pretending to watch football, and finally going to bed. I'd say the picture below about sums it up: Aunt Alice took care of the stuffing and turkey. Uncle Jack moved Tom from the pan to the serving plate. Andy took care of the victuals. My dad carved the turkey. My mom made green beans and brought the cranberry relish and some cookies. Aunt Jean brought the mashed potatoes and the pies and made a salad. And below you can see that the aunts (Alice not pictured) were the only ones cleaning up. I guess you could say my role was to document the day. I did get up for a few seconds to help grandma make the gravy. But then there were five people hovering around the stovetop advising a woman who has been making gravy for probably at least 75 years, so I decided to reassume my position on the couch. Grandma Lois is quite the gravy-maker. It is, actually, one of the culinary skills she has passed on to my dad. For years he has been the family gravy-man. My mom would always concede to his superior gravying skills. I remember the rare times my mom would make real, homemade fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and dad would finish up the meal with thick, brown gravy. Mom never ever ever makes fried chicken anymore (some of us are apparently watching our lipids). Here's why my dad's gravy is better than mom's: Fat. Everybody knows that in order to make gravy you need some fat. Mom has lately realized this and now makes the gravy. But she used to cut corners, and it just doesn't turn out right. Now she knows that butter makes the best cookies and light cream cheese makes runny frosting for cakes. But grandma is the master, as you can see below and as evidenced by the room of satisfied eaters (also thanks to the rest of the delicious food).