|It's not really true that there is no mental anguish at the in laws, but I still think it's funny.|
The stuffing is Pepperidge Farm. The mashed potatoes are frozen. The green bean casserole is that bland horror made with can after can of Cream of Crap soup. The salad is a horrible mixture of iceberg lettuce, cherry tomatoes, copious amounts of raw onion and bottled Italian dressing which mother in law adds extra salt to (and every year several in attendance go on and on about how the salad is the best part of this meal. Really? I don't get it myself). The gravy is a pasty gloppy, lumpy mess of I don't even know what. Even the pies are frozen. I can say the turkey is real and the sweet potatoes are actually roasted and don't have marshmallows on them. Thank goodness.
Yes, I did say I'm a bit of a food snob but for goodness sakes it's a holiday! Peel a fucking potato! Fine you don't have to make your own bread for the stuffing but can you at least buy bread and season it yourself? And the gravy! I don't even know what it's made from. I do know it's very light colored, very thick and very lumpy. Last year I came into the kitchen just as the turkey was being taken out of the oven. It was upside down (breast side down) and no one even realized it. Mother in law was concerned about the doneness because the little thermometer thingy didn't pop out and the bird just looked weird. I said, "that's because it's upside down" and they all looked at me like I had sprouted turkey feathers. Mother in law and sister in law look at it and then back at me and said, "how did you know that? We stared and stared at it and couldn't figure out why it looked so strange, you see it for a few seconds and you knew?" I wanted to say, "because I have a brain and eyes?" But I just said, "the legs are pointed in the wrong direction" or something like that. They shrugged and went back to work. It was then that I witnessed maybe the most heinous food crime I have ever seen. Father in law came and took the bird out of the pan and then mother in law proceeded to dump, yes dump, all the delicious turkey juices in the pan down the drain! I seriously and quite audibly, gasped. And again they all looked at me like I suddenly had a big red turkey waddle under my neck and put my hand over my mouth and walked out of the kitchen in horror.
My contributions to the dinner are cornbread and broccoli rice casserole. The casserole in the past, before I knew any better, had been made with cream of crap soup and other atrocities like Cheez Whiz, but I redid the recipe so that it uses actual mushrooms, Bechamel sauce and real cheddar cheese. It's about a zillion times better. So generally speaking I eat turkey, cranberry sauce (which surprisingly, mother in law actually makes), my dishes, and sweet potatoes. Everything else stays off my plate, which basically means I don't over eat on Thanksgiving, so I guess I am thankful for that.
Nice segue... being thankful. Yes, it's true even with all my bitching and complaining about a dinner I'm not really fond of, I am thankful that I get to be in a place where I can have a dinner. I'm thankful for my family even though at times I want to smack them upside the head. I am thankful for my friends, old and new. I am thankful that I know love. I am thankful for my kitties. I am thankful for the music that fills my life every day. I am thankful for you.