Thanks, Indeed
by Jennifer Iannolo
“You must write an article for Thanksgiving, since the holiday is all about food.” And so the command came down from SOLOHQ HQ, a mysterious cyber-universe from whence exorbitant amounts of money are thrown at me to color these digital pages with my culinary musings.
As I sat down to write, however, I was suddenly overcome by a complete sense of writer’s block. No combination of mental gymnastics could get me past the obstacle that loomed in front of me, taunting me like a pernicious food editor: What could be said about food and Thanksgiving that has not already appeared somewhere? Sure, there are the trite little quips about a bounty of offerings, a harvest of flavors, a cornucopia of delights, etc., etc., blah, blah, ad nauseum.
I thought about the delightful revenge I could get by writing a holiday piece about my family members and their various personality disorders, er, idiosyncracies, but that would just be last year’s Christmas article, part II.
I couldn’t talk about a menu and recipes, because I had already covered that on SOLO Food. And let’s face it, without an extreme amount of creativity, the Thanksgiving menu just isn’t that exciting. I don’t salivate at the thought of corn. Or stuffing. I don’t even really like turkey. My dilemma — and its associated feelings of distress — increased by the minute.
But it also gave me pause. If I didn’t particularly enjoy the food in this meal, there had to be a reason why I so loved the holiday itself. It then occurred to me that Thanksgiving really isn’t about the food. Yes, the meal is the central part of the day, but why? Because it is probably the first time in months we’ve taken the time to sit down and enjoy a traditional feast with the people we love. Or, in some cases, the people we tolerate.
Gathering around the table is a way to stop the world for a moment and just breathe. In days gone by, it was a regular occurrence — Sunday dinners once offered the same kind of repose. They were an opportunity for us to catch up on the events of our family members — to find out who was getting married, who got a new job, who was having a baby, and did you hear about Mrs. Smith and the milkman?
Now, it is likely that we must rely on Thanksgiving to be the one day when we can forget the world outside, and simply eat, drink, and be merry. It allows us a pause to rejuvenate, to feast our eyes on a beautiful table laden with goods that the sweat of our brow has provided. It is the tangible reward of hard work — a manifestation of our productivity both in and out of the kitchen.
These are the aspects of the day that make me revel in anticipation of the warmth and sharing to come. Of course, those notions are quickly drowned out by the sound of reality, otherwise known as The Family.
At our table, Thanksgiving offers a chance to discover how loudly one can talk in order to be heard, as there are likely to be numerous conversations being shared across a 15-foot-long table. It is also an opportunity to practice one’s dexterity, as the center of the table is sure to be dominated by an intricate, multi-tiered centerpiece fashioned out of miniature bales of hay, baby pumpkins that have been fashioned into tea-light candle holders, and gourds of various shapes and sizes (well, my creativity has to come out somewhere). The dishes of food are given their own table of honor.
The day always ends with everyone in a state of exhaustion and satiation, and by then we have progressed through all the family dynamics that can be squeezed into one day: we have been informed, praised, lectured, enlightened, insulted, and appreciated. Fifty-two weeks’ worth of family quality time has been achieved with lightning speed, and we are feeling the effects. Then the Christmas carols resound from the stereo, and coffee is served to counteract the tryptophan that has us all in a state of partial paralysis.
We sip heartily, eat sugary baked goods, and regain our strength in anticipation of the next big day, just a month away. And that takes some serious mental preparation, as Christmas with the Iannolo Clan is a whole different ballgame.
So to you and yours, may you savor this opportunity to be thankful — as am I, by the end of the day — that such a gathering comes only once a year. It makes it that much more memorable — and wonderful.
And be even more thankful that you will not have to sit at my table while one of my nephews attempts to see what happens when hay meets fire.
Happy Thanksgiving, and bon appétit. :)
Discuss this Article (9 messages)
|
