“Beauty does not always run skin-deep.” This was the mantra of this year’s Thanksgiving, as somehow, our turkey managed to become halfway detached from the carcass.
As usual, the Horak-Weinerman Thanksgiving meal was filled with its share of dysfunctional moments and the joy of being surrounded by loved ones whom we feel so comfortable with that we can spend the night sarcastically poking fun at all of the minor calamities that occurred.
Before I go further into the depths of Thanksgiving meals past, let me just say this- our family strictly adheres to tradition. My grandfather, Lloyd is the primary enforcer. Each year, the conversation comes up to invite others to the meal, to change up the menu, or to bring a new recipe into the mix. It is immediately shot down with the famous quote of “No Variance!” which has in its own way defined family gatherings for as long as I can remember.
Every year since I was born, we have gone to my mother’s parent’s house for Thanksgiving. My Grandma Susan insists on making everything for the meal herself, only allowing us to bring a measly apple pie to the feast. My mom only has one brother, who lives in Minnesota and rarely comes to join us for the meal, and my cousin, Brian, is currently living in Florida, so he typically does not come either. About ten years ago, my grandparents moved to Asheville from Maryland to be closer to us, so our Thanksgiving travels constitute driving for twenty minutes to the North side of town.
Given the fact that my family proclaims itself as a little bit crazy, it comes as no surprise that catastrophe of some sort ensures each and every year. One year, the dining room table collapsed mid-meal, with the hours of cooking falling to the floor. There was the year that the turkey collapsed completely, and we had to pick the meat out of the pile of bones that had caved in upon itself. Last year, the mashed sweet potatoes with marshmallows caught on fire, and my dad quickly blew out the flames coming from the oven.
This year, the turkey was maimed. We joked that it was all my grandpa’s fault, my mom even naming the occurrence “the year Lloyd maimed the fowl”, because somehow one of the legs had detached from the rest of the bird, and was dangling by a few narrow strips of skin- not necessarily what my grandma, the perfectionist, was looking for.
Despite all of the humorous instances of things not going according to plan, Thanksgiving is one of the holidays that conjures cozy memories of family being together and enjoying one another’s company. Because of the insistence of “No Variance!,” nothing has truly changed, and in the ever-shifting, chaotic life of a junior in high school, the normalcy and continuity that I equate with the holiday is even more meaningful than I found it to be in the past.
Don’t get me wrong, the food on Thanksgiving is wonderful. Even as a vegetarian, I can’t help but to take a day off from not eating meat to enjoy a small bite of my grandma’s turkey, which is arguably the best on the planet. The rest of our meal consists of mashed potatoes, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, applesauce, rolls, Grandma’s world famous gravy, and apple and pumpkin pie. My grandma makes each item by hand, using recipes passed down from both her parents and from my grandpa’s family as well.
My personal favorite? The stuffing. The recipe comes from one of my great-grandmother Nana’s best friends, who gave her the recipe. Since Nana was always at either her parent’s house or one of her son’s houses for Thanksgiving, she never cooked it. The year my grandparents got married, Nana gave my grandma the recipe to make, and she has cooked it for the last 50 years. It consists of rice, vegetables, and baked crackers (yes, it sounds unappetizing, but it’s really delicious, I swear!). Year after year, this dish is looked forward to and then devoured by our family, to the point where my grandma doubles the recipe so we can all have leftovers to last for weeks!
As the holiday comes to an end and things begin to go back to normal, it’s important to keep the ideas of Thanksgiving close at hand and remember the importance of family and tradition. As the hectic holiday madness descends, continue to eat leftover turkey and mashed potatoes, but also look for the cozy moments with family that bring you back to years past. Yes, things may not always go as expected- things might collapse or catch on fire- but these moments are what turns events into memories that will last forever.
As usual, the Horak-Weinerman Thanksgiving meal was filled with its share of dysfunctional moments and the joy of being surrounded by loved ones whom we feel so comfortable with that we can spend the night sarcastically poking fun at all of the minor calamities that occurred.
Before I go further into the depths of Thanksgiving meals past, let me just say this- our family strictly adheres to tradition. My grandfather, Lloyd is the primary enforcer. Each year, the conversation comes up to invite others to the meal, to change up the menu, or to bring a new recipe into the mix. It is immediately shot down with the famous quote of “No Variance!” which has in its own way defined family gatherings for as long as I can remember.
Every year since I was born, we have gone to my mother’s parent’s house for Thanksgiving. My Grandma Susan insists on making everything for the meal herself, only allowing us to bring a measly apple pie to the feast. My mom only has one brother, who lives in Minnesota and rarely comes to join us for the meal, and my cousin, Brian, is currently living in Florida, so he typically does not come either. About ten years ago, my grandparents moved to Asheville from Maryland to be closer to us, so our Thanksgiving travels constitute driving for twenty minutes to the North side of town.
Given the fact that my family proclaims itself as a little bit crazy, it comes as no surprise that catastrophe of some sort ensures each and every year. One year, the dining room table collapsed mid-meal, with the hours of cooking falling to the floor. There was the year that the turkey collapsed completely, and we had to pick the meat out of the pile of bones that had caved in upon itself. Last year, the mashed sweet potatoes with marshmallows caught on fire, and my dad quickly blew out the flames coming from the oven.
This year, the turkey was maimed. We joked that it was all my grandpa’s fault, my mom even naming the occurrence “the year Lloyd maimed the fowl”, because somehow one of the legs had detached from the rest of the bird, and was dangling by a few narrow strips of skin- not necessarily what my grandma, the perfectionist, was looking for.
Despite all of the humorous instances of things not going according to plan, Thanksgiving is one of the holidays that conjures cozy memories of family being together and enjoying one another’s company. Because of the insistence of “No Variance!,” nothing has truly changed, and in the ever-shifting, chaotic life of a junior in high school, the normalcy and continuity that I equate with the holiday is even more meaningful than I found it to be in the past.
Don’t get me wrong, the food on Thanksgiving is wonderful. Even as a vegetarian, I can’t help but to take a day off from not eating meat to enjoy a small bite of my grandma’s turkey, which is arguably the best on the planet. The rest of our meal consists of mashed potatoes, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, applesauce, rolls, Grandma’s world famous gravy, and apple and pumpkin pie. My grandma makes each item by hand, using recipes passed down from both her parents and from my grandpa’s family as well.
My personal favorite? The stuffing. The recipe comes from one of my great-grandmother Nana’s best friends, who gave her the recipe. Since Nana was always at either her parent’s house or one of her son’s houses for Thanksgiving, she never cooked it. The year my grandparents got married, Nana gave my grandma the recipe to make, and she has cooked it for the last 50 years. It consists of rice, vegetables, and baked crackers (yes, it sounds unappetizing, but it’s really delicious, I swear!). Year after year, this dish is looked forward to and then devoured by our family, to the point where my grandma doubles the recipe so we can all have leftovers to last for weeks!
As the holiday comes to an end and things begin to go back to normal, it’s important to keep the ideas of Thanksgiving close at hand and remember the importance of family and tradition. As the hectic holiday madness descends, continue to eat leftover turkey and mashed potatoes, but also look for the cozy moments with family that bring you back to years past. Yes, things may not always go as expected- things might collapse or catch on fire- but these moments are what turns events into memories that will last forever.