I am so glad Thanksgiving is coming so I can stop eating leftover Halloween candy for dinner.
Ok, I kid! I just did it once. But I do need to put Halloween behind me and stop my frequent forays into the candy jar. Why hasn’t anyone thrown this stuff out?
It’s time to move on and focus on serious holiday eating. Luckily, magazines are pouring through the mail slot with one perfect-looking turkey after another.
To brine, or not to brine? To roast, or perhaps to deep-fry?
Generally, just the thought of holidays – any holiday — makes me want to take to my bed and pull the shades. They’re so much work. Can’t someone else take over?
But Thanksgiving is not a big deal, at least in my mind. This is saying a lot from a woman who has been known to ask her children, “Do you really need to eat dinner again TONIGHT?”
But what’s great about Thanksgiving is that the menu does not require a lot of imagination. Throw together some turkey and some sides and you’re pretty much done. There’s enough white meat and white starch for the pickiest of eaters.
What’s more, there’s grownup conversation and even appreciation for your efforts. How often does that happen?
Sell the kids on the idea that the pies are Totally Sanctioned Pop-Tarts, and you’ve got a holiday everyone can get behind.
Granted, I am always tempted to get a little creative. I blame Martha Stewart for this. She’s always staring malevolently from the magazine stand at the grocery store at this time of year. I am pretty sure her eyes follow me.
At any rate, this creative impulse is usually a not a good idea. Among other things, it often leads me to use vocabulary my children have been told is reserved for:
- Grownups while driving.
- Grownups who have landed on a Legos Star Wars mini-action figure with the small of their bare foot.
- Grownups who have torn a ligament to get to the phone only to hear a school Connect Ed technology message they’ve already received five emails about.
You know, dire circumstances involving potentially grievous physical injury. I am not sure I can convince my children that pouring Grand Marnier into the pumpkin pie falls into the same category.
But aside from my occasional bouts of misplaced culinary enthusiasm, I try to keep it pretty simple. While my children might run shrieking from the fresh cranberry sauce (“it’s bumpy!”) and try to tiptoe to the Kids’ Table having somehow missed the vegetables (“I didn’t SEE the carrots!”), they generally eat a decent meal.
Even better, it’s the one night a year I don’t have to hear the question “What’s for dinner?”
That alone makes it a holiday to be thankful for.
