Thanksgiving was never-ever a mass gathering in our home. Mama. (Margaret) Nannie. (Blanche) Virginia. And, me.
We were not turkey people. Yes, everybody loves a turkey sandwich. But, that whole Norman Rockwell turkey-on-a-platter thing was not a part of my childhood.
We did seafood. Really.
Early on, it was fried oysters and French fries.
There were other things, too, of course. Green salad. Seven-layer salad. Pumpkin pie. Date rolls. Some kind of cheese “thing,” with sharp cheddar cheese and Rice Krispies. It was relatively simple.
Where that came from, I haven’t the faintest idea. Whether that was Blanche or Margaret or both… your guess is as good as mine.
I thought turkey was for big families in bigger houses.
Eventually, the menu expanded. Fried oysters. Boiled shrimp. Fruit. Crispy country ham on those little biscuits from Dewey’s Bakery.
The food. The parade. (I LOVE the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Their Santa Claus is beautiful.) The dog show on NBC, right after the parade. Going through the newspaper ads and constructing “the plan” for Black Friday.
One of my favorite days of the year. I am completely enamored with Thanksgiving dinner. Happy Turkey Day. Gobble, gobble.
Vikki and I signed the papers and got the keys to our new home the day before Thanksgiving. We moved in that day. Delivery trucks came and went.
We had Thanksgiving dinner, but it wasn’t anything especially memorable. Who has time to cook when you’re trying to figure out how to fit oversized night-stands into a bedroom that is surprisingly smaller than expected?
The next year… our first “real” Thanksgiving dinner. In our dining room. In our home. At our table. On our chairs. We even bought a Thanksgiving platter at Cracker Barrel. I don’t know why. We liked it.
I don’t know who was more surprised, Mrs. Griffin or Mr. Griffin.
Vikki grew up in a turkey and stuffing and green bean casserole family. I, of course, started talking about oysters and shrimp.
What to do? What to do?
She thought we should do seafood, so I could have what I’d always had. I insisted we do turkey, so she could have what she’d always had. (O’Henry could have made this into a short story for the ages.)
The tradition was born. We did both. It’s what we’ve done every year.
We do the seafood feast, with a few additions, as a multi-hour appetizer buffet. The traditional Thanksgiving meal, with a few additions, is set for late afternoon.
It’s a breathtaking display. An unreasonable amount of food. The 82nd Airborne could drop by and there would be plenty for everybody.
The parade. The dog show. Black Friday game-planning.
Honestly, the sheer enormity of the whole thing makes me queasy. I do most of the cooking for Thanksgiving. After stirring and smelling and tasting… I kinda lose my appetite. It’s taken me how-many-ever years we’ve been married to learn how to carve a turkey. I still don’t do it very well. It wears me out.
Once everything is done, I sit on the couch and try not to cry. I look at Vikki and wish we had another thousand years together. I listen to Sophia and Miles, reliving every adventure. I miss my Nannie. I miss my Mama. And, Macy’s Santa Claus is magically beautiful. He twinkles.
I eat a little of this and little of that.
My favorite thing is the sausage balls. It’s just about the easiest thing on the menu. I cook them a little extra, ’cause we like them on the crunchy side.
You do you, of course. Keep your family’s tradition. Celebrate the legacy. Maybe add something new, like sausage balls. They’re good. I promise. And, you’re welcome.
SAUSAGE BALLS
Ingredients
1 pound sausage
1 cup Bisquick
1 cup shredded cheese
Texas Pete (I suppose you could use another hot sauce, but the Lord probably wouldn’t approve.)
Directions
Allow sausage to reach room temperature.
Mix ingredients in large bowl. (Texas Pete to taste.)
Mold sausage balls. Whatever size you prefer.
Place sausage balls on greased cookie sheet.
Bake @ 375 for 9 minutes.
Turn sausage balls.
Bake @ 375 for 9 minutes, or, until done.
