By Cal Orey,
The Writing Gourmet
Back in the fifities, I experienced a Thanksgiving dinner to cherish... I was a fifth grader living in a Dennis the Menace-type perfect suburbialand. My mom, a bakeress with talents, cooked the day before and the day of the big event. In the late afternoon our fun-loving relatives joined us. We all sat by the fireplace(s), watching movies on TV, talking and playing with the dog. Then, dinner was served in the dining room. On a glass table (which I now have in my dining room) was a beautiful display of rolls, vegetables, cranberries, mashed potatoes, dressing, turkey on a platter, pumpkin and pecan pies. My father carved the turkey. We ate. We laughed. We enjoyed our huge turkey feast like pilgrims. It was a picture-perfect day--a true Food Network-Hallmark Channel movie...
These days, I know that on the big screen and in real life sometimes Thanksgiving days and dinners aren't always picture-perfect. In the film "The Accidental Tourist" the sister character under cooks the bird. But there are other accidents I remember mega and now I have tagged these "turkey day fowl ups"...
* At 17, at the dinner table complete with a traditional stuffed turkey I rebelled and announced "I'm a vegetarian." My mother cried. My father yelled. My brother made funny faces.
These days, I know that on the big screen and in real life sometimes Thanksgiving days and dinners aren't always picture-perfect. In the film "The Accidental Tourist" the sister character under cooks the bird. But there are other accidents I remember mega and now I have tagged these "turkey day fowl ups"...
* At 17, at the dinner table complete with a traditional stuffed turkey I rebelled and announced "I'm a vegetarian." My mother cried. My father yelled. My brother made funny faces.
* At 21, I (a Californian hippie chick) was stranded on the road with my dog. We were stuck in a Wyoming blizzard. Cold, wet and hungry we watched strangers pass us by.
* At 28, I was struck by a nasty flu bug. I couldn't eat anything--not even turkey soup.
* At 35, my boyfriend made the turkey dinner. We got into a silly guy-gal argument. He wrapped up the cooked bird in foil and drove it home in his BMW. I was turkey-less.
* At 46, I cooked a big turkey but I was afraid of getting food poisoning for not cooking it long enough. The end result: the tough, dry bird was dumped into the garbage.
* At 50-something I didn't want to do the Turkey Day thing so I rebelled (again). I ordered a veggie pizza and tipped the pizza guy.
Ditto for November 22, 2018. Thin crust, whole wheat organic and in the freezer. Two slices with hot tea...cuddle up with the dog, cat and watch disaster-thriller movies.
*At senior time? Completing book #9; preparing for trip to Anchorage, Alaska. No bird on the table. Tea and veggies, please.
Ditto for November 22, 2018. Thin crust, whole wheat organic and in the freezer. Two slices with hot tea...cuddle up with the dog, cat and watch disaster-thriller movies.
*At senior time? Completing book #9; preparing for trip to Anchorage, Alaska. No bird on the table. Tea and veggies, please.
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