How to Give Thanks

by rivka on November 23, 2015 · 2 comments

in menus, Thanksgiving

Do you also feel like you need a breather from the onslaught of unbearable news? Me too. I cannot stop thinking about the children paralyzed by instability, hunger, and fear. But I doubt you need me to pile on more sadness and anxiety. I’m sure you have plenty of your own.

Here’s my contribution to happier things: a menu for Thursday’s dinner, where we’re hosting 13 people from two sides of our family, spanning four generations. Eldest guest: my bubby, rounding 90. Youngest guest: our one-year-old (!), with an appetite and a belly to rival the grown-ups’.

I tell you, the news from the past several months makes giving thanks seem easier, ever more obvious a thing we must do. We are safe, warm, and well-fed. We worry about small things more than big things. If I overcook the turkey, or forget a dish in the fridge, or break a platter, whatever. What. ever.

So here is our menu, of altogether too much food that no doubt we will all enjoy. I plan to spend time reflecting on our immense luck, thinking about the things that matter. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday with loved ones, where you feel safe, sated, and happy.

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Oh, hi! Yep, we’re still here, I promise. Just busy. Work is nuts, the kiddo is rounding the corner on her first birthday (!!), and cooking at this stage is….funny. It’s not over, not by any means: if you open my fridge, you’ll see a rather sundry assortment of edibles, including a stuffing that I made because I had the ingredients, some leftover vegetarian chili from an epic batch that fed our family plus three friends who just had babies (!), a few stray hunks of cheese, some concord grapes that I scored at Whole Foods after the local season was over, sue me, plus a little container of my pear sauce mixed with yogurt, for the babe. As they do.

So yes, we’re cooking. (Okay: I’m cooking.) Sometimes I’m just cooking down some pears with cinnamon and pureeing them, but Adi goes to town on my chicken wings like the best of them. Watching her take to food, specifically things I make but really any food, has been one of the best things about this year. (Also: kid is ticklish like you wouldn’t believe. It’s the best thing ever.)

But sometimes, I get an odd hankering for fussing in the kitchen over something fancier and more involve. 1% of those times, I actually go ahead and make it. So it was two weeks ago: I wanted croissants on Friday, and by Sunday brunch, we were eating hot, buttery, flaky croissants that I MADE MYSELF.

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