Jack and I found our children, their spouses and all the grandchildren — including little Finley, two months old this Tuesday — in our clutches, as well as seven friends, 20 people in all, on Thanksgiving day. Three of the little ones ran circles around the dining room table while the women hung out in the kitchen and the men watched football.
What a perfect Thanksgiving and here’s why.
I usually pass out after dinner from the exhaustion of cooking all day but this year I took advantage of Thanksgiving eve to prepare the stuffing, green-bean casserole and mashed potatoes so Jack could use the oven most of the following day for the overnight-brined turkey.
Thursday morning, before guests arrived, I tossed the turkey neck and gizzards in the crockpot with seasonings for use later in the gravy, and tidied up the house a bit. As a gluten-intolerant individual, I typically do not keep wheat flour in my house. When it came late afternoon and time to make the gravy, I quickly decided to make the roux from peanut oil and potato flour.
What became one of the highlights was when my friend Jen stepped up to the stovetop with me and stirred the gravy with a fork (my mother’s way) while I added ingredients. We talked and laughed, adjusting the thickness. And then Jen poured in the juices from the turkey until we had a large pan of the most delicious gravy ever made. That stuff was incredible. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to produce it again, but peanut oil and potato flour, last-minue decisions, gave it a fantastic base.
Every dish on the table — Jack’s turkey, Lael’s yams, Dolores’ carrots, Mandy’s deviled eggs and Mylene’s Filipino lumpia — contributed to an amazing meal. By some miracle most of us boisterously squeezed around the table.
When we finished, I held a very sleepy Finn in my arms for a long time — a little baby drunk on turkey-laced mommy’s milk.
Becky Clark, Editor
