My daughter, Merrilee, loves Thanksgiving. For some folks, the countdown for Christmas starts on December 26. By the end of December Merrilee’s already a month into the countdown to her favorite holiday—and the food that has become our family tradition.

Growing up, my mom was not one for roasting turkeys. She always cooked a special meal for Thanksgiving, but it was more likely to be roast beef than a turkey. I guess she must have fixed turkey some—while I don’t remember the turkey, I do remember her cornbread dressing, and mine is a reasonable facsimile thereof that starts with her cornbread recipe.

My mother-in-law, however, did the Turkey Thing. She would roast a large bird, place it on a lovely platter, and even decorate it with sprigs of celery. And she’d fix all the trimmings, though I don’t remember specifically what kind of dressing she made. She’d make casseroles, including at least one that I make every year in her memory—an asparagus casserole. She gave me the recipe shortly after we got married, along with some other favorites of hers, handwritten. Many of them have become stained over the years (although I did finally get smart and put my most used recipes in plastic sheet protectors in a binder), but I find some comfort in seeing them in her handwriting.

Over the years I’ve tried a few things here and there, but generally have a pretty set menu for my Thanksgiving dinner. I take some shortcuts—I despise dealing with a turkey carcass, and nobody in my family really cares about the dark meat, so I just buy boneless turkey breasts and cook them—in my crockpot in a little chicken broth. Two of them will fit in the large crockpot, and they always come out super juicy.

One year I got a Cajun-flavored breast by mistake, and it ended up being really tasty—and preferred over the plain variety. So now I get either one or two of the Cajuns, and if I only get one, I’ll get a regular one as my second one.

We discovered this year that it isn’t just family members who love the Cajun Turkey. Our Maine Coon cat, Kuiper, will eat as much as we’ll feed him. We are beginning to suspect he is really a Bayou Coon Cat….

We always have mashed potatoes—lots of them, especially if my son, Dan, is here. And we fix them according to my mother-in-law’s recipe with a little mayonnaise to make them extra creamy.

In addition to the turkey, dressing, potatoes, and asparagus casserole, other must-haves include the traditional green bean casserole; deviled eggs—lots of those if Merrilee is here; a broccoli, rice, and cheese casserole; canned jellied cranberry sauce; and yeast rolls. I cheat on the rolls and just get frozen Mrs. Schubert’s rolls, although one year I did substitute 7-Up Biscuits—a mighty tasty biscuit, but it requires time and effort at the wrong time of the meal preparation.

I used to put a bowl of corn and or green peas on the table in an effort to put something that wasn’t swimming in calories, but nobody ate either so I don’t bother any more.

And then there’s dessert. I’ve made various kinds of pies over the years—Pumpkin Pie, chocolate chip (aka “No Name Pie”) that Bob’s Aunt Ruth used to make, Pecan Pie, Apple Pie, Hot Fudge Pie, and even Chocolate Cheesecake. No lack of calories here! Oh—don’t forget the ice cream!

It’s a lot of cooking and the oven goes nonstop on Thanksgiving Day morning—or whatever morning we’ve declared Thanksgiving to be that year. Rather than forcing my married children to eat twice or choose between families, I happily move our celebration to the day that works for everybody.

Some of the family will enjoy a glass of wine with dinner. Growing up in a tea-totaller household I never developed a taste for wine so I don’t drink it. I love to smell it, and I cook with it occasionally, but I just don’t care to drink it.

Regardless of how many of the family or other friends are here, I deliberately make enough to have leftovers for at least a day or two or three. That’s part of the fun.

I pull out the fancy china plates for the meal. Aunt Ruth got the china in Guam back when she was a Navy nurse during World War II. And I drag out my silverware, all pieces given as wedding gifts years before. The last two years, however, we’ve opted for non-breakable Corelle plates and plastic cups. Did I mention I have an 18-month-old grandson?

I put all the food on the kitchen table as a buffet, and we loop around the table overfilling our plates, and then move to the dining room to eat. My father-in-law often takes a picture of the table as we sit down, and again after we’ve finished and are sitting around the table in a state of glazed gluttony.

We laugh, we tell stories, we compliment the chefs, and we wonder why we put so much food on our plates—but then always manage to find room for the pie and ice cream.

I love the traditions we’ve started, and I love that at least some of the traditions and recipes and even the place settings are direct links to those who aren’t with us now, but are still in our hearts.

It’s a good day.

© Melissa Clark Vickers 2014

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