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Sparkle (3)
Holiday food memories are like a family photo album with scratch and sniff pages. Ask anyone about their earliest Thanksgiving memories and chances are it is a combination of the Macy’s parade and the smell of yams with toasted marshmallows or pumpkin pie. Then again, some of us might only remember Uncle Zeke’s shiny flask filled with something that added a certain charm to the boring punch bowl filled with preseason eggnog.
My brother reports that we always had a Thanksgiving dinner growing up; that the Ad Man recited the same typed poem/prayer of thanks each year. But I cannot muster up one solitary memory from childhood about the holiday. There aren’t even any family photos from Thanksgiving to use as a memory crutch. I’m puzzled that the guy- the Ad Man- who photographed anything and everyone would skip a major holiday opportunity. I suspect that we actually ate liver and onions for Thanksgiving and that is why I’ve blocked out those early years.
My Thanksgiving memories actually begin when I was a 17-year-old bride attending the famous holiday feast with combined families at the newly minted in-laws. Just because it was Thanksgiving and the new lemon loving in-laws were hosting my father and stepmother, assorted siblings and guests meant there was something nothing to be nervous about. The gathering would take place in their beautiful colonial on a wooded lane where the neighbor parks his helicopter. Perfectly Norman Rockwell – in theory. Spending most of that memorable holiday with a “nervous” stomach ailment was mortifying. The Ad Man even rustled up the family doctor by phone who diagnosed “stomach ache”. It would still be years before the gluten intolerance diagnosis, but I was suffering all the way back then.
Since that Thursday 30 something years ago, we’ve spent some happy and almost pain-free Thanksgivings with the in-laws. We came to enjoy the time together and I prepared in advance for the onslaught of not feeling well by keeping a giant assortment of stomach remedies in my bag. It also helps that we avoided mingling the two entire families ever again after that first crazy year.
That first memorable in-law Thanksgiving Day is where the early hints that gluten was not my friend were apparent. Those “stomach aches” that everyone assumed were merely stress related were pain inflicted by the invasion of wheat, barley and rye making me sick. And Thanksgiving dinner is nothing without a pile of stuffing, freshly baked rolls, pies and even those awful green beans drowning in mushroom soup and topped with fried onions; lots of wheat.
These days we prefer a small holiday dinner. Neither of us enjoys turkey so we feast on a chicken or duck and after the gluten diagnosis we avoided stuffing, but now that we have access to some great gluten free breads, we indulge this one time of year. Loading up on fresh veggies, lightly sautéed and seasoned along with the chicken makes for a wonderful feast and none of the stress, physical or mental.
My favorite stuffing is Stove Top (quit snickering). It was a sad day when I realized I couldn’t eat it any longer. And there are those that subscribe to more is better, loading up the savory bread with chestnuts, apples, nuts, sausage and other little goodies. I like the old original version with a little sautéed celery and onion, seasonings like sage, thyme, (poultry seasoning), salt and pepper and moistened with chicken broth and butter. Tossed lightly and either served from the pot or a casserole that bakes to make the top a bit crunchy.
I worked on this version until it tasted quite similar to the old Stove Top and nothing makes me happier.
On this holiday, I salute the long gone Ad Man, the long gone family doctor who meant well more
