I was talking to a coworker yesterday and she shared a story that really made me smile.
She comes from a middle-eastern background, and in her family Thanksgiving was always celebrated with middle-eastern foods. They’d pay lip service to American tradition by cooking a turkey, but it was more there for novelty purposes than for eating. I guess they were roasting a decoration.
Then a year or two ago she had dinner with her husband’s family. She really liked the stuffing. “Oh my god, it was the best thing I ever had! It wasn’t just… bread.”
I have this mental image of middle-eastern women stuffing a turkey with whole slices of Wonder Bread.
I was certainly no Thanksgiving virgin (or any other kind) but one year I was up early preparing the bird for a large group coming to the house.
I must have been a bit tired from going out the night before and, ahem, forgot to take one of the bags out of the cavity of the turkey.
I only noticed when it was finished and discretely removed it before anyone noticed.
Tasted fine, and only I knew.
In Berlin, a few Americans got together to prepare a traditional Thanksgiving dinner - invited a lot of local Berliners who enjoyed the excuse to eat like pigs on some random Thursday with a bunch of crazy Americans - one girl dressed as a pilgrim.
At any rate, one woman and I decided to make pumpkin pie from scratch.
First of all, good luck finding a pie pan in Germany - then we bought real pumpkins and followed the instructions in Joy Of Cooking.
Let me just say that making a pumpkin pie, from scratch, is a royal pain in the ass and takes forever. That woman and I were worn out after the effort, but had two beautiful pumpkin pies and made fresh whipped cream.
The pies were wolfed down in about 2 minutes.
We looked at each other and said, “Best pumpkin pie we have ever had - and that will be the last time we ever do this.”
For many years I’ve cooked the turkey in a roasting bag, and it’s never been dry. After a couple of times eating my turkey, one Thanksgiving my mom decided to try using a roasting bag. It was the first time she used one. Somehow, she put the bird in upside-down. No nice, crispy skin on the breast, but damned if it wasn’t succulent and juicy!
Now you tell me.
Do you have any idea how much fun it is to gut, cut, bake, scrape, mash and then puree an actual pumpkin?! Now do that with two of them.
Once had a guest who was from American Samoa. We watched the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special, followed by Planes, Trains and Automobiles. When Snoopy was wrestling with the ping-pong table* and the evil chair, she almost fell off the couch from laughing so much. Then PTA was a good travelogue, for places in America she might never get to see “and no great loss,” I added. Then the end totally blindsided her :snif: Oh, and she also enjoyed the Macy’s parade.
*I swear, when that table snaps shut on his paw, I can FEEL it. Owoooooooooooo, indeed.
By far my most memorable story of a Thanksgiving virgin involved Sparky, a four year old Jack Russel terrier we adopted after the puppy mill he used to live in was shut down. Before he came to us he hardly knew life outside of his pen. His first Thanksgiving must have been like a miracle for him. Dozens of new people petting him and giving him food and playing with him and giving him food and rubbing his belly and giving him food and using a turkey leg bone for a tug-of-war and giving him food. I don’t know where he put it all. I outweighed him at least 20-1 and he ate more than I did I think.
He was a happy, happy and slightly miserable dog that day.
My wife’s first thanksgiving was a big fat Greek Thanksgiving in America. High school friends were part of a big extended Greek American family. The older folks from the old country, parents born in America with thick accents and grandkids (my buddies) that spoke about 100 words of Greek. Man was it a spread.
If you’re ever up to the challenge again, there’s some tricks to really make it a MUCH easier task. In short – quarter the pumpkin at the very start, use a microwave to soften the meat, and use a food mill or processor to puree. Done!
A young lady was hosting her first Thanksgiving for her family. Someone placed a cornish game hen inside the turkey (both after cooking) and they briefly convinced her that she’d roasted a pregnant turkey.
Well, actually cooking is fun. But if you do not have the proper kitchen equipment, it can be a bitch. Food mill or china cap with a roller. In an absolute dead last choice, tambour strainer. You see that used occasionally in the Japanese Iron Chef, pushing foie gras through with a spreader. Much more work than using a food mill or china cap. I personally use a china cap.
ROFL I like that =)
My virgin story is not so much a virgin to the idea of thanksgiving … he was american.
mrAru and I were in the habit of inviting home guys in his division for various holidays if he was not on duty for the holiday [or if it was celebrated on an adjacent weekend when they didn’t have duty] so generally we had Gil, a single guy and friend who also came over on random weekends and a varying cast of random squids.
One thanksgiving we had a city boy show up brought along by Gil, and a couple of other guys. We were in the habit of raising our own turkeys. Rob had mentioned the general menu when inviting guys over as several had asked if they could buy and bring stuff [usually beer or other booze, chips and dips, stuff like that] Fresh turkey was mentioned. This was back in the mid 90s, when the non frozen fresh turkey fad had really hit strongly.
So they arrive, drop stuff off, settle on which comfy seat people were going to commandeer for the football fest that was going to be starting in a few hours [it being 8 am now]. Rob and Gil stand up and announce it is time to get the turkey ready, Gil grabs a garbage bag and Rob grabs a khyber knife from the spread on the wall and they start to troop outside, and the rest of the guys follow. They see Rob and Gil corner a turkey, pop it into a garbage bag to keep the wings from buffeting the people and being popped into a hanging canvas cone from the maple tree. Off goes the head, and they let it bleed out while getting the top off of an 85 gallon overpack drum over a fire that is merrily boiling along unnoticed in the field near the tree. Keep in mind that this is a good solid 30 pound tom turkey
The city boy decides that the turkey is WAY too fresh for his comfort and comes in and hides in the house while they pluck and clean the bird … he helps me in the kitchen until the turkey is safely hidden in the oven.
Some people never learned that food doesn’t always come wrapped in plastic…
[and for those who think it is cruel, the bird is discommoded until it is upside down, a matter of about 5 minutes until the rush of blood to the head pacifies it, then the head is off within seconds. I prefer to kill my own birds than get storebought, you never know how they are treated.]
Really, the beheading tree was handy, we kill pretty much any farm critter we intend to eat there. I believe that [for critters small enough to deal with by hand] that beheading and bleeding out is pretty much the most painless way to do it. A quick chop and no head.
I really am not fond of the way they handle commercial large meat animals, crowding them into a feedlot then into a terrifying knackers. It is to the point where we are starting to consider paying the farmer on the corner to graze a cow with his and knackering and butchering it ourself.
