I will admit it. I will be brave enough to confess the sacrilege.
NO ONE in our entire family likes homemade stuffing. Absolutely NO ONE, not even the older ones. And especially the kids. Yecchāhomemade stuffing. Blech. I still have memories of little bones from the āgiblets.ā Gibletsāisnāt that what they hang people from?
Stuffing simply has to be Stove Top in our family. Mmmmm!
And incidentally, it has to be instant mashed potatoes, too, like Hungry Jack. We all hate lumpy real potatoes. Gross.
And to continue the litany of modern Thanksgivingāwe usually order a turkey to be cooked up at the local grocery storeāmuch easier, moister, and more delicious than anything we ever make at home. (Although a few years back, I did a crock pot turkey breast that was pretty good.) Ah, the festive joy of driving over the potholes and through the suburbs to the grocery store and picking up the turkey in its bright and cheerful disposable foil pan and paying for it at the cash register and then driving it back home again to the waiting family and the cats meowing underfoot!
Actually, hardly anyone in our family really likes turkey. The tryptophan in the turkey makes everyone sleepy. And my husband doesnāt eat anything with bones.
And as a microbiologist, Iām terrified of Staphylococcus aureus food poisoning, so I usually donāt eat anyoneās homemade turkey (shudder) unless I was there during the entire preparation and actually witnessed the safe cooking of the bird. I donāt trust anyone with turkey except the grocery store. They have too much to lose (their entire business) from a community food poisoning outbreak.
BTW, when everyone takes their initial helping from the grocery store turkey, I quickly jump up, seal it over with foil, and put in the frig so that no one will get Staph aureus food poisoning. Anyone looking for a second helping will have to warm it up in the microwave. No *Staph aureus * is going to touch my family! As far as Iām concerned, itās a miracle that so many of us survived the holidays of our childhood when the turkey sat out all day long breeding deadly bacteria.
As for pumpkin pieāweāre all happy with the local grocery storeās bakery. And Cool Whip, whatever that stuff is. Itās not whipped cream, I know that much. Itās some kind of chemical goo, but it tastes good, especially if you buy the Extra Creamy with 100 calories per teaspoonful.
Now sweet potatoesāthose will be real. My MIL cuts them up and roasts them with no marshmallows or anything. She does it for meāIām the only one in the family who eats sweet potatoes. I think if she made them from a can with plenty of sugar and syrup and pecans, others would eat them. But Iām the only one. So usually, thereās only one sweet potato in one of those cute tiny casserole dishes that normally never get used.
Now the cranberry sauceāonly one person in the family eats that, my BIL. And the only way he will eat it is in the form of that canned-shaped cylinder of quivering dark red jelly that looks like ectoplasm from The X-Files. My MIL opens the can, pushes out the cylinder, and sets it in front of him. He eats it while the rest of us wonder how anyone can stand cranberries. (Sorry, Maine.) At least he has a healthy urinary tract.
The rolls are always those brown and serve, usually white not brown (so why donāt they call them āwhite and serve?ā). Absolutely no fiber, and not a whole grain in sight. And āspread,ā not butter, although I usually bring a stick of the real thingāone of our few āold-fashionedā Thanksgiving foods-butter.
Interestingly, there is absolutely no sign at our table of a green vegetable, a cruciferous cancer-fighting vegetable, or anything that is actually good for us. The whole meal is all starch and sugar and fat. We really need that 2000-calorie meal to sustain us as we sit around in a gas-heated home (if itās at our parentsā house, the thermostat is usually set at around ninety degrees) and vigorously watch football games from colleges that we didnāt attend.
It doesnāt matter. The little kids donāt eat much anyway except the chicken fries that grandma ends up warming up for them after they refuse to eat anything except the Stove Top stuffing. And the rest of usāwell, weāre just glad to be together on this earth for a little while longer. Somewhere out there, thereās a Staphylococcus aureus thatās meant for us, but until then, weāll enjoy ourselves and our traditional family Thanksgiving dinner.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!.