The Low Bar

The older I get, the lower the bar becomes for success in certain endeavors.  One example: The traditional Thanksgiving feast.

For years, the Dad of No and I labored over providing a home-cooked, festive Thanksgiving feast to anyone who was in our home on Thanksgiving Day.  Actually, I should say that the Dad of No did a significant amount of laboring because (and I know I am about to reveal heresy here) I have no idea how to cook a turkey, and he does.

I do know how to make that green bean casserole, though.  The kind with the crunchy onions on top that everyone makes once a year for Thanksgiving.  I mention this because I don't want anyone to think I am a total failure in the Traditional Thanksgiving Dinner cooking category.  If you ever invite me to your house for Thanksgiving, sign me up for the green bean casserole.  I can guarantee perfection. 

Once, I found a recipe for a "healthier" version of that casserole from a healthy eating magazine, and I made that instead.  It turned out that what everyone really wanted was the kind with the canned green beans and the canned mushroom soup, not the green bean casserole that involved searching out organic fresh green beans and making a creamy mushroom sauce from scratch.  I tossed that recipe away.

A few years ago the Dad of No was scheduled for surgery the week of Thanksgiving.  I don't remember exactly how that went down, but the Grandparents of No were coming and at first, the Grandpa of No said, hey, we'll just go out to eat dinner, and for various reasons that didn't work out, and then someone hit upon the ideal situation of ordering the dinner pre-cooked from a local grocery store.

I placed the order online and on the day before Thanksgiving, I went and retrieved the dinner. It came in a large cooler bag, and contained a turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry relish, rolls, some vegetables, and gravy.  The grocery store even tossed in a coupon for a free pie.  I remember thinking, if I'd only known all these years.  The meal was delicious, and the kitchen was much easier to clean.

The pie was an extra bonus, because the other part of the traditional Thanksgiving Feast I am not very adept at is pumpkin pie. No one in my household likes pumpkin pie. I don't even like pumpkin pie that much.  Blueberry? Yes! Key lime? Yes! Chocolate? Yes! Yes! Yes!  Pumpkin? meh.  Whatever. I know, the Pilgrim Mothers would be shocked and appalled.

Until a few years ago, I did make a dessert for the Traditional Thanksgiving Feast, which was usually some kind of chocolate because that's the only thing that everyone likes.  Then the Teenager became a member of the high school marching band, and in a twist of fate that can only be described as serendipitous, the marching band sold pies right before Thanksgiving!

Now, I obtain the Thanksgiving pre-cooked meal from the grocery store, make the unhealthy version of the green bean casserole with the canned soup and fried onions, and buy a few band pies.  Voila, my work here is done.

Just in case someone is reading this thinking that I am an awful person, flouting tradition like this, let me assure you: the Family of No does have Thanksgiving traditions- they just don't involve defrosting a raw turkey.  For about four years, the Teenager and I have volunteered to cut pumpkin pie at a local church the day before Thanksgiving in preparation for a large Thanksgiving dinner they conduct for the community, and then the day of Thanksgiving we get up early and go run (walk) a 5K Turkey Trot. This way, we can eat all the French Silk Chocolate band pie we want and not feel remotely guilty about it.

Rest assured, however, that the bar is not completely lowered.  I hardly decorate and I buy the dinner pre-cooked, but I do still use my wedding china.  It's the only time of the year it gets used.   The gravy boat, however, stays in the cabinet.  We just warm up the gravy in the container and put it on the table with a spoon.  It still tastes delicious.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.