by Jill Smokler
6. As you serve dessert, say cheerfully, “Some of you”—then drop voice ominously—“will find a little . . . surprise in your pumpkin pie.”
7. Pass out sweatpants at the door.
8. Greet each person with “I’ll just help you get the roaster out of your car. You did bring the turkey, didn’t you?”
9. Purposely forget the napkins. When someone asks for one, lick your thumb and say, “Oh, who needs those? Just come on over here—mom spit cleans anything.”
10. Sit down just as your guests are digging into the stuffing, then talk loudly about how you added “the cutest little mushrooms that you found” under a pile of poop/growing on a random stump in the woods/in a plastic baggie under your teenage son’s mattress.
Who needs the Thanksgiving Day parade or a football game? With these ideas, prime entertainment is sure to follow. Bonus points if you somehow manage to throw food poisoning into the mix.
Hey, you wanted “memorable,” right?
10
REDEFINING THANKSGIVING
by Jennifer Simon
Thanksgiving has always been a holiday defined by noise. In a house full of my dad’s siblings, their children, extended family members and random friends, you had to compete to be heard. It was the one time of year that all my cousins would come home from college so our whole family could be all together, talking and eating and talking some more. Over the years, most of my cousins had kids; some stayed in town and some moved away. The cacophony ebbed and flowed, but it was always a raucous, fun holiday.
After graduating from college, it was my turn to move away from the Midwest. While I quickly embraced being a New Yorker, I still went “home” for Thanksgiving for my first decade away. But then I got married. My husband’s family lived on Long Island, fairly close to our Brooklyn apartment. Suddenly, holiday travel was merely a train ride away instead of a mandatory plane ride.
On November 3, 2009, my son was born weighing four pounds, eleven ounces, just missing the NICU by a couple ounces. We took him home to coo at, gingerly dress, and snuggle with. Although he was healthy and only three weeks premature, there was no way I was going to take my tiny baby to a gathering with dozens of people.
Thanksgiving, I declared, was canceled. I joked with my husband that we’d just order Chinese to replicate our (and every Jew’s) traditional Christmas meal.
After all, Thanksgiving just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without shouting and roughhousing, without hearing gossip about someone’s aunt’s daughter, without my aunt Susie’s pies and my dad’s smoked turkey, and, of course, without my grandmother holding my hand while telling me a story I’d only heard a dozen times before. With my husband, Matt’s family, Thanksgiving would be a different version of mine, so it would seem close enough, but a Thanksgiving with just my husband and newborn? That’s not a holiday, I reasoned.
About a week before Thanksgiving, Matt decided that regardless of my expectations, we would still celebrate Thanksgiving. We would just do it a new way. Our way.
Instead of cooking a whole turkey, he made us individual guinea hens. He found the best recipe for corn bread just so he could turn it into stuffing. He even made fancy greens beans (on the stove with a recipe instead of my usual way—ahem, in the microwave). And for dessert, he made us the most delicious individual fruit crumbles.
It was a beautiful plate of food and a great way to rethink the holiday.
For Thanksgiving, we sat down as a new family, making our own new tradition. Matt and I sat at the table, while our baby, so small he fit into a blanket-lined box, was on the table, literally a conversation piece.
The meal, without the distractions, allowed me to savor the true meaning of the holiday. I gave thanks for my husband, who worked the entire afternoon to make me a holiday meal. I gave thanks for my sweet, precious, tiny baby, who was happily sleeping through his first holiday.
And I gave thanks for the quiet that blanketed our apartment in calm and love.
We were a new family, starting our own new traditions. And that was better than anything else I was used to.
11
A PECAN PIE RECIPE THAT WILL MAKE FAMILY AND FRIENDS WANT TO TONGUE YOU
By Lola Lolita
I’m not much of a culinary artist, and I’m certainly not much of one for recipes, but I do have one or two tricks up my sleeve. One of these tricks involves baking a pecan pie. And for someone who’s not too keen on cooking, this is totally a big deal.
I’ve kept this recipe a secret for several years, but now that the holiday season is upon us, I’m feeling less selfish than usual. One might even say I’m feeling generous. In the spirit of that feeling, I’ve decided to break out my grandmammy’s supersecret pecan pie recipe and share it with all of you. (Don’t worry. No murderous threats attached.)
1 cup sugar
2⁄3 cup dark corn syrup
3 eggs
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup pecans (For a thicker filling, you can add ½ cup more pecans.)
½ stick butter
1 Tablespoon flour
Combine sugar, butter, and syrup until it’s a smooth blend.
Add flour, salt, and eggs together, and beat slightly.
Add vanilla and pecans.
Bake in an unbaked pie shell for 1 hour at 350 degrees.
Halfway through baking, you may want to gently place a large piece of tinfoil over the top. This’ll keep the top of your whole beautiful biznass from charring up.
And there it is. Get out the small-scale weaponry and the Tasers, cuz I swear, you’re gonna have to beat these adorers off with a stick.
12
THE PROS AND CONS OF HAVING A BABY RIGHT BEFORE THANKSGIVING
by Alice Gomstyn
When my second child was born just before Thanksgiving, I had a whole lot to be grateful for—especially the heavy-duty pain-killers the hospital sent me home with. Take it from me, if your bun in the oven is due just before the day the turkey is supposed to go in the oven, you have a few pros and cons to consider . . .
PRO: Lots of family members will be around to help you care for your newborn.
CON: Lots of family members will be around to breathe on, sneeze on, and leave ugly fuchsia lipstick marks on your newborn. (No one likes that shade on you, Aunt Gladys. NO ONE.)
PRO: Engorged postpartum boobs will create cleavage that makes your husband extragrateful this year.
CON: Engorged postpartum boobs will create enough milk to leak through your shirt and scandalize your father-in-law.
PRO: The extra calorie intake necessary for lactating will give you an excuse to eat all you want.
CON: You’re so hungry that you devour your dinner with the ferocity of a jungle creature and certain family members raise concerns that you will actually eat your baby next.
PRO: Since you’re still recovering from labor, you get to sit on a comfy egg-crate cushion during the meal.
CON: Having to explain to younger family members exactly why you’re sitting on an egg crate: “Yes, I do have stitches down there. No, I will not show you.”
PRO: You’ll easily be able to regale family members at dinner when you tell the amusing story of the baby’s birth.
CON: In your postpartum haze, you may forget to omit the part where you pooped on the delivery table. Bon appétit, everyone!
PRO: No one expects you to cook a thing.
CON: To get out of cooking again next year, you’ll have to have another baby.
13
TEN PEOPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE THE MORNING OF THANKSGIVING
by Sarah Cottrell
Have you ever tried to go shopping the day of a major holiday? It is a freak-show nightmare to behold complete with a cast of outrageous characters. I may dillydally with nearly every other aspect of my life, but I don
’t mess around with the holidays. Although I am not an organized person by nature, I try my best to get my shit together during Thanksgiving in order to fool my family into thinking that I can pull off a Rockwell delusion for at least a day.
I stick to the same list I use every year and I try like hell to get to the grocery store at least three days before showtime in order to avoid meeting these ten kinds of shoppers:
1. THE EXHAUSTED MOM. Her eyes are glazed over with visions of pumpkin spice Xanax dancing through her head, which makes her easy to spot from three aisles away. Her cart is brimming over with regular groceries, last-minute holiday staples, bribery snacks, and wild children hanging off the side of the cart begging, taunting, and pleading their way through the stadium-sized store.
2. THE HOARDER. This asshole is over in aisle four shoving an armful of discounted Thanksgiving items like canned pumpkin pie filling or bagged stuffing into her cart. She doesn’t share. And hot damn if you happen to need a bag of stale, cubed bread, because this lady will give you the stink eye as you make a gesture toward the last remaining bag on the shelf.
3. THE BOUGIE DOUCHE BAG. We have all heard the Bougie Douche Bag broadcasting an urgent need to the store clerk. This person needs stupid things like upcycled turkey frills or octopus ink extract or expeller-pressed ginger root for their amazing dinner. Cost is no problem, but time is, so hurry the hell up!
4. THE MARTHA ON CRACK. Imagine Martha Stewart on crack. On Thanksgiving Day. She is literally (no, really, not figuratively) running through the store looking for more butternut squash and nutmeg. She will elbow you out of the way and probably swear under her minty-fresh breath as she bolts toward the checkout, whereupon she will cause a scene because her card won’t work, she doesn’t have cash, and fuck if her checkbook isn’t in the car.
5. THE VILLIAGE IDIOT. This jackass will announce to anyone within earshot just how ridiculous it is that there is a line at the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning. If that is not annoying enough, this social moron will give condescending remarks on everyone in the store and mock the choice of items that these people are hastily trying to purchase.
6. THE COUPONER. A major holiday will not stop this person from holding up a goddamn line of aggressive shoppers while she searches through her wad of coupons in order to save thirty-three cents on a can of cranberry sauce. After the cursory twelve minutes of forcing everyone to wait, she will announce that she brought her own bags. She just has to find them in her oversized purse.
7. THE STALKER. This person has no idea what to buy. Instead of arriving to the store prepared with a list, this innovative procrastinator will hunt down the most mom-looking shopper in the store and quietly follow her to copycat shop. Sometimes the stalker will make small talk with the mom shopper to figure out her menu.
8. THE DESPERATE SPOUSE. Probably the easiest to spot, the desperate spouse will have a cart filled with booze and a look of fear and dread on his or her face. Because in-laws. One can even tell that this shopper is actively trying to avoid home by the concentrated interest in reading labels or by the number of laps around the store completed.
9. THE NEWBIE WIFE. She is so cute; the newbie wife who is trying so hard to impress her brand-spanking-new husband and his family. Dressed in her holiday best, complete with an apron and pearl necklace, she is rushing through the store trying to find items that she forgot to buy last week. She looks like she might start crying or sucker-punch anyone who asks her if she needs assistance as she looks for a Wi-Fi signal to check Pinterest for that gravy recipe.
10. THE CLUELESS HUSBAND. With an indecipherable list clutched in his meaty hands, this guy will be headed directly to the beer aisle before he even tries to figure out what the hell cream of tartar is. Passersby will likely mistake him for a caveman as he grunts at the list with confused, squinty eyes before he gives up and calls his wife for directions.
14
SHOW-STEALING MOLASSES COOKIES
by Jessica Griffin
These molasses cookies are pretty much like a party in your mouth. Seriously, man. Ginger, cloves, cinnamon, and brown sugar? I make them from early fall all the way through New Year’s. Oh, who am I kidding? I make them year-round and they show up at every family gathering. It’s tradition! (Cue Fiddler on the Roof music.)
But, here is the beauty of this simple cookie: they dress up the cliché Thanksgiving Cool Whip dessert buffet and steal the show at a summer BBQ when served with fresh peaches and vanilla ice cream. Yes, I have even gone so far as to give them as presents. Wrap them up in some cute parchment paper with twine and fresh rosemary—boom, you have just been included in the lucky recipient’s will.
Be warned: once you start making these cookies you are essentially agreeing to bring them to every gathering you attend, for like forever.
¾ cup canola oil
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup brown sugar
¼ cup blackstrap molasses
1 egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon ground ginger
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
Preheat oven to 350 and line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
Cream oil, both sugars, molasses, egg, and vanilla in a large bowl until creamy. If you use mixer, use the paddle attachment on a stand mixer at medium speed. When adding flour mixture, turn the speed to low until well combined (or cream by hand).
Mix the baking soda, flour, spices and salt together in a small bowl and gradually add to your wet ingredients. Mix gently until well combined. At this point you may refrigerate dough if it is too soft to roll into balls.
Scoop dough into 1-inch balls and roll in granulated sugar. Place about 3 inches apart—cookies will spread somewhat.
Bake for about 10 minutes or just until tops start to have a crackled appearance. Don’t overbake! Let them sit on cookie sheet until cooled and then hide them until ready to serve.
15
BECAUSE THEY ARE FAMILY
by Janie Emaus
The holidays bring out the best and the worst in families.
Who among us has not been tortured by an uncle who loves to tell jokes? The same ones, mind you. Year after year after boring year. Sitting next to him for the entire meal does not make for good digestion.
Or the aunt who is stuck in time, bringing gifts for teenagers that are better suited for ten-year-olds.
And how about the grandmother who complains that the coffee isn’t hot enough and the pie doesn’t taste the way she used to bake it?
Mix in the cousin who knows everything about everything from how to kill bedbugs to the best way to please a woman. The sister-in-law who pontificates about the benefits of organic food until you want to jam a yam into her mouth in order to silence her. The brother who finishes off a bottle of whiskey and passes out with his head on his plate.
And you have enough drama for a blockbuster holiday movie.
So how do we get through this?
We shake our heads. Pour another glass of wine. And smile. Because, bottom line—they are family.
Because sometime during the evening there will be those other moments.
When sisters who have been arguing push all those angry words out the window.
When a daughter realizes she is one step closer to being the oldest generation in the family.
When a grandfather asks what holiday is being celebrated as his great-grandson hands him another piece of pumpkin pie.
When a toddler crawls along the floor next to the dog, both with turkey bones hanging out the sides of their mouths.
When the kitchen is filled with laughter and chatter as dishes are dried, stacked, and put away.
A cacoph
ony of sounds, enough to drive one crazy. But silence would be unbearable.
In these moments there is enough heart to challenge any Hallmark Channel film ever made.
So we nod our heads. Pour another glass of wine. And smile.
Because through the best and worst, they are always our family.
16
A TEN-STEP GUIDE TO MAKING STUFFING WITH YOUR PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE MOTHER-IN-LAW
by Megan Zander
For the past three years on Thanksgiving, your mother-in-law has refused your offers to help cook, leaving you to watch sports with the men or play board games with the kiddies. She surprises you this year and asks for your help with the stuffing. You ignore her remark about possibly learning something so that her son won’t be so thin and hope maybe this will be the start of if not a beautiful, at least a more cordial friendship. Grab an old apron that admittedly is kind of awesomely retro, and let’s do this.
1. Dice onion. Talk about every safe subject you can think of, which lasts all of two minutes thanks to her one-word answers. Rack your brain to come up with something.
2. Cut celery and cube bread in awkward silence. Daydream about the conversation you will have with your girlfriends rehashing this when you hit up the Black Friday sales tomorrow.
3. Grab seasonings from pantry. Briefly jump out of your skin when your MIL screams and you look around expecting to see a mouse, when in fact it is the container of sage in your hand that’s causing her to lose her shit. Allow her to select the spices and try not to roll your eyes.
4. Slice onion. Not a repeat of step one; this is an entirely new onion because when your MIL has declared that her stuffing requires sliced onion, not diced. Bite your tongue to avoid telling her exactly where she can put her sliced onion. Try not to let rage tears get onto the cutting board and if she sees you crying, blame the onions.
