because it requires nothing of me. Every year, I have sat back and waited as my mom prepped, cooked and served every dish involved in this annual feast. A perfect turkey soaked in an apple cider brine overnight, mashed potatoes whipped smooth, buttery rolls baked to a golden brown and pumpkin and pecan pies that could easily grace the cover of Southern Living.
There have been occasions in my life when I wasn't
able to join my family for Thanksgiving. One year, I was working as
hostess at the Whaling Bar in La Jolla, Cal. I spent the day pulling out chairs and draping napkins in the laps of rich people. I longed for my mom's cornbread dressing.
Another time, I opted to join a boyfriend at his family's dinner. That day was spent outside, drinking cheap beer by a turkey fryer. While I have to admit that the fried turkey was pretty darn good, I still missed the Thanksgiving traditions of my own family,
which don't involve washing a turkey with a water hose.I know someday I will be responsible for at least part of a Thanksgiving meal and I'm finally starting to realize that I should probably try to learn a few things from my mom in preparation for that day.
So this year, instead of dozing on the couch while Meredith Vieira and Al Roker give alarming statistics about the size and weight of the Dora the Explorer balloon, I will be in the kitchen with my mother, taking notes.
