It’s that time of the year again! Can you believe it? 2017 just seemed to have flashed by when it feels like it barely even begun. I am not even ready for 2018. But what I am SOOO ready for is to pig out on Thanksgiving!
I have blurred memories of the first time I learned about Thanksgiving. I was in Kindergarten, excited about becoming a big sister soon, for the first time.
I guess my workaholic mom was sort of taking it easy around the time, right before she was about to pop. She was actually home and had some time to come visit me at school and take pictures of the Thanksgiving event that was going on.
Judging from the pictures, I guess we had learned about the Pilgrims and Native Americans, along with the whole story of how Thanksgiving all got started. Tell me, did I look better as a Pilgrim or a Native American?
Before we got freed into the long weekend, we got to take home all the Thanksgiving arts and craft nonsense that we created (like the cut-out Native American costume that I wore) that month. The teacher took down from the wall, each of the “hand turkey” drawings and passed them back to us to take home and show our parents. I also remember doing pine cone turkeys. I just remember glitter. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s when my love for glittery things started.
I am pretty sure I already told this story on this blog. But my parents were still FOBS when they made an attempt to make a turkey for the first time. I remember them microwaving the shit out of a bird one year. The microwave timer was winded back to repeat numerous times until the meat of the bird no longer showed signs of rawness.
“Okay, I think it’s ready,” my mom would say, tearing up the dry ass meat with her hands. It tasted like sawdust, but nonetheless, we gobbled it up. I am pretty sure we most likely washed it down with kimchi.
As the years went by, our tradition evolved and we started ordering pre-made Thanksgiving dinners from Ralphs. We first had a taste of the Ralphs turkey dinner at church. My mom asked how the turkey was prepared and she was told that it was a turkey from Ralphs. And Ralph’s Thanksgivings tradition soon took over. It was a more edible, less fuss option. The tradition continued for some years until my mom made another attempt at the turkey, this time in the oven. I guess she picked up on tips from her friends or cookbooks. Memories of mom’s oven baked turkey are kind of blurred. Maybe I am choosing to block it out? IDK. But I do remember our housekeeper’s turkey. It was actually moist, smoky, and preferred over mom’s.
Fast forward to today, it is ME that is left with the burden to pull off most of the dinner, with the traditional classics anyways.
I just came from the grocery store earlier (on a Tuesday) and it’s already a jungle out there. It’s a good thing that I didn’t forget anything. I prefer to go as early on as I can. And I pick up the turkey right before I am about to dry brine it. But I remember one year, I forgot lemons and went to go pick them up, like on a Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving….and OMG! What I went through just to get a couple of lemons… first of all, just to enter into the store parking lot can be a nightmare. Why does it seem like everyone that either doesn’t know how to drive or has uncontrollable road rage is in the parking lot of a grocery store the day before Thanksgiving? A lady in front would be, for some reason, be parked smack in the middle and blocking traffic from both ways so you can’t go around to pass her and there are seven cars behind you. When you finally track down a family that seems to be leaving, you patiently wait while they take their time to strap their screaming toddler into the car seat and unload a full shopping cart of groceries to feed the whole neighborhood for a week. And when they finally get in their car and move out of the way, a car entering from the other side shamelessly accelerates into the spot. You get the urge to get out of your car and beat the crap out of them. But you don’t, because you’re a lady and don’t want to be charged with assault. You don’t want to give them the finger because you don’t want to hear your mother nagging you to calm the eff down. So you just breathe and move on to find the next available parking spot.
The mission to get one little item is not for the weakhearted. With shopping carts pulled and shoved in all directions, you may find yourself feeling trapped and the only way out is if you know how to high jump and can high jump through all them fuckers in your way. And then when you finally get your hands on whatever you came to pick up, there’s the unending line you have to deal with next. Everyone in the regular line has carts with items stacked high, about to topple over, as if they’re in a competition of shopping cart Jenga. The express line goes around the produce area, across the meat section, scattered through to the toiletry section…and you still don’t see where it ends. A piece of you dies inside but you need those lemons (or whatever else you came for), so you either wait or eff it and do without it or go find alternatives somehow. But after you’ve made it this far, how can you stop? And then it’s fun time in the parking lot all over again, in reverse.
Now this has only happened to me once….and never ever will I suffer through that kind of madness ever again.
I just started with the dry brine of the turkey today. I was going to make pie dough today too but got lazy. The preparing fun will begin tomorrow and on through Thursday. I can’t wait to pig out. #foodiesfavoriteholiday
Read more on past Thanksgiving posts.
Who has tried using Amazonfresh? For people who generally hate driving, waiting in line, and just overall, having people in the way of peaceful shopping time, it seems like it could cut out the stresses of grocery shopping immensely.