Paranoid for Thanksgiving
December 01, 2008
Posted by Mike Gordon
I love Thanksgiving. It’s a great time to be with family and when families are spread out and travel is difficult -- a great time to get together with our close friends that have become our “second or extended family.” I love Thanksgiving because it’s a holiday without the pressure of shopping for and figuring out what gift old Uncle Joe would like this year. It is just an eat-a-thon with almost no pressure attached. Except for one thing -- we all feel just a little pressure from what to make or bring to the Thanksgiving eat-a-thon.
Tell me that this doesn’t happen at everyone’s dinner. Since Thanksgiving is all about food, table-talk isn’t about Christmas and Tom’s habit of obviously re-gifting presents, or Uncle Bill’s terrible taste in ties. Thanksgiving critiques are usually about comments referencing hopes and dreams for the dishes people contribute. We hope Sue doesn’t bring her carrot mold recipe that she announced is so nice and moist because she uses two cups of oil. Let’s hope Betty doesn’t do her famous potato dish made with three cups of mayo, two-cups of sour cream and topped with so much cheese that leaves an oil slick on the roof of your mouth. I do hope Frank makes his great sweet and sour meatballs and Phyllis brings her fabulous desserts…all foodie hopes and dreams. There’s the biggie hope and dream that this year when Lynn calls for dinner at 5:00 as she does each year that the twenty pound turkey went into the oven before three o’clock for a change.
I was asked to bring my “famous” mushroom strudel again this year – I like it. But is it like Sue’s famous carrot mold and Betty’s famous artery-clogging potato dish? What’s the table-talk on my famous dish when I’m not in the room? Oh, paranoia. Pressure – not just like the pressure of what gifts to give -- pot-luck dishes can’t be exchanged. We eat everything with a smile and with expressions of appreciation and then talk about them on the ride home -- the good, the bad and the ugly dishes then express hopes that new recipes show up next year.
I forgot to look to see if my mushroom strudel went home with everyone’s requested care packages built from leftovers; was any leftover? Did I make enough?
Paranoid in the Kitchen,
Mike
I love Thanksgiving. It’s a great time to be with family and when families are spread out and travel is difficult -- a great time to get together with our close friends that have become our “second or extended family.” I love Thanksgiving because it’s a holiday without the pressure of shopping for and figuring out what gift old Uncle Joe would like this year. It is just an eat-a-thon with almost no pressure attached. Except for one thing -- we all feel just a little pressure from what to make or bring to the Thanksgiving eat-a-thon.
Tell me that this doesn’t happen at everyone’s dinner. Since Thanksgiving is all about food, table-talk isn’t about Christmas and Tom’s habit of obviously re-gifting presents, or Uncle Bill’s terrible taste in ties. Thanksgiving critiques are usually about comments referencing hopes and dreams for the dishes people contribute. We hope Sue doesn’t bring her carrot mold recipe that she announced is so nice and moist because she uses two cups of oil. Let’s hope Betty doesn’t do her famous potato dish made with three cups of mayo, two-cups of sour cream and topped with so much cheese that leaves an oil slick on the roof of your mouth. I do hope Frank makes his great sweet and sour meatballs and Phyllis brings her fabulous desserts…all foodie hopes and dreams. There’s the biggie hope and dream that this year when Lynn calls for dinner at 5:00 as she does each year that the twenty pound turkey went into the oven before three o’clock for a change.
I was asked to bring my “famous” mushroom strudel again this year – I like it. But is it like Sue’s famous carrot mold and Betty’s famous artery-clogging potato dish? What’s the table-talk on my famous dish when I’m not in the room? Oh, paranoia. Pressure – not just like the pressure of what gifts to give -- pot-luck dishes can’t be exchanged. We eat everything with a smile and with expressions of appreciation and then talk about them on the ride home -- the good, the bad and the ugly dishes then express hopes that new recipes show up next year.
I forgot to look to see if my mushroom strudel went home with everyone’s requested care packages built from leftovers; was any leftover? Did I make enough?
Paranoid in the Kitchen,
Mike
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