And now Thanksgiving is safely passed and we can be thankful for it and start worrying about holiday presents :)
Thanksgiving was actually quite fun. Thanksgiving in my family generally means we end up with two or three Thanksgiving dinners rolled into one, and this year was no exception. My uncles host it, and left to their own devices they would produce a Thanksgiving meal that had far too much meat and a normal quantity of side dishes and dessert. However, both of my parents feel impelled to contribute side dishes and pie, so we just end up with a perfectly normal Thanksgiving meal for about three times the actual number of guests.
So we had three turkeys (Uncle Chris grilled one and deep-fried one, and then my cousin showed up with a third turkey he’d been given at work, so they deep-fried that one too) and lots of stuffing (someone made two full-sized batches of my grandmother’s cracker stuffing, one with sausage and one without, an my mom made a chestnut stuffing) and three cranberry sauces (mom made one, an uncle made one, and my Great-Aunt Lee showed up with one she had made using orange juice instead of sugar, under the impression that this would make it healthier for my diabetic uncle) and a waldorf salad (from my mom) and a leek and cauliflower gratin (from my dad) and brussels sprouts with bourbon and bacon (also my dad) and roasted sweet potatoes (from my cousin.) And it was good. My dad always comes up with elaborate and exotic dishes from various magazines, and they often turn out pretty good – the gratin was delicious. I didn’t have to cook anything, which is always a good sign. My uncles had been considering doing a goose as well, but decided not to, which is a pity because goose is delicious and the fat can be saved for latkes. Mom says that her brother doesn’t like doing a goose because people make too many goose-themed puns, which is certainly true but may or may not have been a deciding factor.
Beauty did well for most of the day, cheerfully eating anything she was given and cooing at various relatives and putting up with not having her booster seat. (I forgot her booster seat, but fortunately thought to bring extra t-shirts so I could protect her outfit. We have a number of cotton t-shirts we originally bought as burp clothes, and now I put them on her like a shirt if I want to protect her pants and the floor while she eats. It works wonders.) She was very sleepy by the time we sat down to eat, so she had a few bites of things and fell asleep in my mom’s arms.
Dessert was ridiculous as well, of course: two pumpkin pies, two sweet potato pies, two apple pies, one dish contributed by my dad which mom called “jazzy apple pie” and the rest of us referred to as “that apple-chili-cheddar pie-thing that Daddy made,” and a plate of brownies. And ice cream, and whipped cream. No Cool Whip, because Cool Whip is vile. For those keeping count, that works out to half a pie per person, assuming the baby counts as a whole person and my dad’s contribution counts as a pie. There were leftovers. Fortunately, leftover pie is the only dessert that my mom will allow people to eat for breakfast.
The baby ate two small slices of sweet potato pie. It wasn’t heavily sweetened, after all.