I’m gonna go ahead and put it out there, I don’t give a rat’s rear end about turkey. Yup, that’s right. Pretty much anything on Thanksgiving that annexes precious gastro-territory (that would otherwise be devoted to stuffing) is not worth my time. I can generally take or leave mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean things (especially casseroles), cranberry sauce, and the whole lot of it. If it’s not made of bread cubes, dowsed in gravy, and possibly to probably containing sausage…I’m really just not that interested. On rare occasions, I’ll allow the odd Brussels sprout boulder to take up residence on my stuffing mountain, but it depends of my vegetable intake for the day (usually low on holidays).
Often, when we have guests for Thanksgiving, Mom knows she needs to make two batches of stuffing because, after all, we can’t trust (relative) strangers to limit their intake. There’s no guarantee there will be enough for (my) leftovers.
What is it about the youngest children in the family? Why are we always the most ardent defenders of tradition? This year, Mom breathed a cautious word in my general direction about making a really delicious Israeli couscous and wild mushroom dish for Thanksgiving, instead of stuffing. It’s really good, so I actually considered it for about a nanosecond. Two years ago I would have bitten her head off for even daring to imagine a world in which stuffing was not the centerpiece of our Thanksgiving table. Ultimately, we decided (calmly and mutually) that we could make the couscous any other day.
The only other thing that’s worth my attention on Turkey Day is pie. Once I’ve unbuttoned my pants and napped on the couch for an hour or so after the main meal (I really do this…even at other people’s houses), I am ready to delve into dessert. It’s a scientific fact that once a year I grow an entirely different stomach for sweets. No matter how many months pregnant I look, no matter how labored my breathing is outside of a recumbent position, I require pie. Apple, pumpkin, and pecan pies are pretty much the best ones out there (except coconut cream, yum!), and if all three are present, I am having a tiny slice of all three—and by tiny, I mean normal. Dab on a little lightly sweetened whipped cream, and wow.
At this point, I am ready to put a sticky note on the tupperware of leftover stuffing threatening torture and slow death if eaten, shuffle upstairs to take an 8-hour food coma, and set my alarm early so I can get up and eat stuffing for breakfast. Aa-a-a-and maybe a sliver of pie. But just one.
First of all, I can vouch for the fact that you need to be in the horizontal position post-stuffing. But let’s be honest, Sharon—there are times you don’t make it to the couch and you just lay on the floor next to/under the table (I cite Uncle John and Aunt Liz’s, Thanksgiving 2002).
Okay, now that the truth is really out on the table, I’m with you. I’m all about the stuffing. But if I could choose only one Thanksgiving food, it would be a close tie between mom’s stuffing and candied yams. While I have been abroad for the last six Thanksgivings I work incredibly hard to hold up our holiday traditions (which can’t really just be about bread cubes and stock.) I’ve made candied yams for English friends and family celebrating Thanksgiving with us for the last two years. I don’t think they really get it (which is fair enough), and while they politely put a tablespoon of it on their plate, for me, it’s one of the only uniquely Thanksgiving foods. When else in the year do we eat sweet potatoes and marshmallows together? So put a plate of candied yams in front of me and then I’ll plunk down next to Sharon on the sofa (or floor!) and tuck into a slice of pumpkin pie. (P.S. Sharon, definitely yes to the slightly sweetened whipped cream. I don’t think I’d even want to know pie without it.)
I will attest to Sharon’s lying underneath the table after eating her fill of stuffing. In fact, I took it as a sign she was growing up when at the Brown’s a couple of Thanksgivings ago she moved to a different room for her Thanksgiving coma. Right on cue, however, she returned an hour later, ready for pie!
Man, being seconded (and third-ed!) on my complete and utter lack of self control around stuffing is a little embarrassing once it’s all out there on the big bad interweb. oh well, it really is true…
Sharon, I think you are me reincarnated. I could relate to everything you said (and do!). Happy Thanksgiving, ladies!
Sharon, you are not alone in your love of stuffing but I’ll even take it one step further and say that not only do I love stuffing, but I love it COLD. Gross but delicious. I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Mmmm, sounds lie-under-the-table-with-my-pants-unbuttoned good, Sharon!! Wondering how I can adjust the recipe if I don’t add the sausage. Any suggestions?
Shaz, is it really just stuffing that you do this with? I kinda don’t think so. I seem to remember a more recent meal together where you required a wardrobe change to boxers and a ridiculously huge sweatshirt because of what you ate.
I’m unfortunately not on the stuffing train with you, it just never resonated with me. But that’s why it’s so good to be friends – more stuffing for you, more mash and green bean casserole for me.
However, we may just come to blows over the pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies. And you haven’t even tasted my Nan’s chocolate kahlua pie!
Hey Susan,
Just omit the sausage, increase the butter to 4 tablespoons, and saute the celery and onions in that. Happy Thanksgiving!
I just came across your blog via Pioneer woman… I have to say I am glad I did. A girl after my own heart. Stuffing and pie, the rest just doesn’t do it for me. I am glad to know I am not alone in my Thanksgiving preferences.
Have a happy holiday!!
I am the same way at Thanksgiving! I hardly eat Turkey (I’d rather have it for leftovers all shredded and sauted with fish sauce and onions–my mom makes it and it’s delicious) but bring on the stuffing and pie. And sparkling cider to help wash it all down.
i’m a year late, but this post really speaks to me