Thanksgiving is a holiday that has since my childhood held a lot of complexities and anxieties. The holiday itself is one of a tragic tradition that has over centuries become sugar coated and commercialized; sold with 5 lb turkeys and hallmark cards of smiling families and strong patriarchs standing at the head of the table. Thanksgiving over time, has acquired new and diverse meanings for individuals and their families however, and for me, it is a day (both positive and negative) in which family comes together to break bread and celebrate gratitude together (which I love). Every year that my nuclear family hosted the meal since I can remember, the food has been an adventure; from raw vegan thanksgiving (I'm still traumatized) to the "traditional" turkey themed meal, having Thanksgiving at my house was always cause for much discussion and debate. Such diversity and potential for variation in the meal led to my family being banned from hosting the holiday at our house (which I think my mom may have plotted from day one- brilliant woman). This reminded me of the discussion we had in class surrounding
Dancing Skeletons: Life and Death in West Africa by Katherine A. Dettwyler, in which the anthropologist requests food solely from one of her hosts' wives and does her best to avoid houses with food she didn't prefer. It is funny though, because regardless of what wild inventions my mom decided to present on the day of gratitude, the two food items that remained constant throughout, were stuffing and pie, my two favourite dishes, and the things I look forward to most every year. I realize that my mom made the stuffing specifically for my sister and I in order to appease us and it has become such a staple, that the thought of Thanksgiving without these items doesn't feel right.
This year for the first time, I went to visit my paternal family in Pennsylvania and was both excited and terrified for the adventure that was to come. I am ethnically mixed as my maternal family is hispanic and north african, and as I was raised by my mom and maternal side, I identify culturally with the stereotypical loud and feisty female powerhouses, and food-based affection, so when I went to my paternal sides home for such a food-central holiday, I was anxious to see how the meal and conversation would unfold and was very nervous to see how the family dynamics would allow me to fit in.
Not only did I have nothing to be anxious about, but the dinner, conversation, and family dynamic was really nice, eerily civil, and extremely welcoming. A lot of tragedy has occurred on this side of the family in the past few years and I suppose that for this reason, what remains of the family has come together and become much warmer and closer than ever before. Along with this, the food was unbelievable and incorporated dishes such as cauliflower gratin, string beans, peas, mashed potatoes, candied yams, turkey, turnip and apple puree, and thankfully, my staples of stuffing and pie! The stuffing (although not my mammas' ) was beyond delicious and made me feel connected to this side of the family, regardless of my initial anxieties. The pies were also superb and included a variety of chocolate pecan, pumpkin, sweet potato, apple pie, and a milk tart. I felt like I was at home, and realized firsthand, how like we read in the beginning of the year, food can take you back to your home (or country) wherever you are. While I was not with my usual crew (maternal family,) I felt like we were together as I stuffed myself with stuffing and savored sweet pies, and I had a really wonderful time.
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| Dark Chocolate Pecan Pie |
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Pumpkin Pie with a "Turkey" pastry on top
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| Apple Pie |
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| Sweet Potato Pie |
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| Stuffing!!! (My favourite) |
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| String Beans |
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| Thanksgiving Buffet: a plethora of food. This picture is interesting because as I looked at the copious amount of food in front of me, I couldn't help but think of the clients from the "Cupboard of Kindness" and about all of the people who don't have the privilege of feasting as I did with friends and family. It made me feel strange but also deepened my sense of appreciation and gratitude for the opportunities and privilege I live by not having to worry about having enough food. |
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| marshmallow candied yams... first time I had marshmallows on top- very yummy |
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| cauliflower gratin - yummier than it appears in photo |
Besides my obvious reaction - those pies look fantastic and now I'm hungry - I really connected with this post. My family always had Thanksgiving at my grandfather's house. It was the halfway point between my family and my uncle's family, so every year we would head out on our 8 hour car ride to eat an enormous turkey and create the usual chaos. My family is pretty large, so Thanksgiving was always cause to panic for me. My grandfather or uncle always ended up being disgruntled by someone's manners, someone's less than tasteful jokes, or even how the food was being passed. Truly, it kept us all on our toes. But none the less, Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays of the year. Despite the chaos and feuding, family is family, and in the end of each meal, everyone was always fat and happy (see label: gluttony). I think what drew me to your post is the fact that you acknowledge both the anxiety, and how that anxiety is ultimately unnecessary, because I've experienced the same feelings each year, probably since I was eight.
ReplyDeleteNow to go find some pie....