On Giving Thanks

As you’ve probably guessed by now, my mom is my muse.  She resents this role but her mother was hers and I’m sure (maybe) that this is just the normal rhythm of life.  My mother is a real piece of work!  My mom pulled out the stops this year for Thanksgiving.  She really played us close and we were all involved in the process before we realized the level of her game!  She’s one for the Hall of Fame! 

Let me begin this saga by letting you know how grateful we are that my mother is coming along just nicely after her illness.  We’re all sitting around like panting puppies just waiting to do her bidding!  I mean I will leave the beloved IComfort Bed if she tells me she wants to go somewhere; I don’t like to leave the IComfort Bed unless I want to leave it. 

THE GAME

Hook
Now, I’m not sure there was ever a real conversation about what the menu would be for Thanksgiving.  I did see a note on my daughter’s refrigerator but it was in her handwriting so I’m not sure who took part in the conversation.  I was lead to believe that my mother and daughter had set the menu (which meant that my daughter took notes). 

For about one week prior to Thanksgiving, little batches of ingredients showed up on our steps.  I have to admit that I thought I was just storing stuff.  I didn’t realize I was cooking the ham until I saw the pot.  I talked with my daughter about it and she too learned that she’d be cooking the greens the same way – when the pot showed up! 

Line

As the week wore on toward the big day, there were many conversations about what other ingredients might be needed to pull off each of the dishes.  I even received sweet potatoes for the candid sweet potatoes!  My mother indicated we wouldn’t be having macaroni and cheese or mashed potatoes because she didn’t “want green juice in her potatoes.”  R-E-A-L-L-Y? – WOW MOM - YOU DOING THE MOST!  We had mac & cheese anyway. 

Sinker

As I’ve mentioned before, cooking is a mega stressor for me.  I want to get the stuff right and I want it to taste good.  But I have to really concentrate on the matter AND STAY IN THE KITCHEN otherwise I won’t even remember I was ever in the kitchen that day. 

Okay, so we learned about our contribution to the meal upon my mother dropping off the food item and the pan it was to be cooked in!  I don’t know who set the menu but I believe it was my mom – while somehow making Farrin think she was a part of the process.

I had no concerns about cooking the ham because I wasn’t going to do anything but put that sucker in the pan and cook it.  I mean after all – when my mom cooks ham she doesn’t do all that other stuff with the cloves, pineapples and maraschino cherries. 

However, recognizing this was some kind of test – I mean come on she had not given out instructions just dropped off the food and the pot – I contacted my mother at the last minute to ask how I was supposed to cook the ham.  You guessed it; cloves, brown sugar, pineapples and the maraschino cherries! 

I was determined to pass my test and began my calculations (my there is a lot of math in cooking).  Yep, I pulled out my calculator to be sure my timing and concoction was calibrated perfectly for that heavy ass ham she managed to drop off at my house with the pot.   The cook of the kitchen at my house (that would be me), rose to the occasion!

Aunt Debbie was at the house while I was trying to figure out the right amounts and indicated “it really isn’t that hard, I’ve only watched this be done several times but it didn’t seem that involved.”  EVERYBODY IS A CRITIC! 

Also, I want you to know that when I mentioned the change in ingredients to my daughter she was like “you cooked it two years ago, don’t you remember.”  Well, she also got the turkey task and had all kind of trouble with that do-hickey that is supposed to pop out when the bird is done.  When I arrived for the meal, she was asking me why the do-hickey had not popped out.  Now, we’re all connected to the WWW; why was she asking me?  She didn’t like the answer she got either – smile. 

Apparently that do-hickey thing is unreliable and the bird is liable to be dry as a desert bone by the time it pops out.  About 30 minutes after being removed from the oven – it popped!  That will teach her to belittle my test anxiety. 

All in all, we had a lovely meal and a very good time together.  At the end, my mom said, “it was good.”  We worked like the Hebrews to get that little phrase out of her!  She’s got game! 

I don’t know what the plan is for Christmas but if need be, the cook of the kitchen will rise again!