It’s that time again, Thanksgiving.
For those who have followed these musings you may remember
tales of Thanksgivings past. There was the year of the septic system back up
along with related complications, a story about pies that nearly didn’t get
baked for a major hotels Thanksgiving Buffet, reminiscences of KDKB’s annual
playing of Arlo Guthrie and Alice’s Restaurant.
This year we dive into dressing, or stuffing, depending on
how it is prepared. Stuffing is in the bird, dressing is baked separate. I’m
sure that in the past it was mostly stuffing, until our over sensitive modern times thought that you could
get deathly ill from stuffing, which is possible, if you don’t cook it long
enough. Simple fix, however I digress.
Dressing in the McVeigh household was always prepared by the
men of the family. This recipe, which is written down and locked tightly away
was originated by my Grandmother. I’m pretty sure the roots of it were based on
an Old Country Recipe. The Old Country being Carnlough, Ireland, where my
grandparents hailed from.
Even as a kid my father, brother and I would work on the
dressing, it was a ritual that started a few days ahead of the actual day.
Bread would be purchased and laid out to dry. Mysterious spices rarely used
would appear. Mom would assemble the various meats and vegetables required.
But, early Thanksgiving morning the task would be turned over to the men.
We would assemble in the kitchen in the dark, cold, early
hours of Thanksgiving morn. Each of us had an assigned duty, Dad the conductor of the operation, brother and I
diving into our individual tasks. It was like a symphony, individual components
coming together to create a masterpiece, every year.
In the day’s of old it was stuffing that we made, literally
stuffing the bird with Grandma McVeigh’s secret recipe. On completion of this
Mom and Grandma would put the turkey in the oven to bake to perfection.
A few hours later, depending on the size of the stuffed
turkey, 18 – 20 pounds was normal in those days, the turkey would come out of
the oven, stuffing dished out, mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, green bean
casserole, cranberry sauce, pickles and black olives would all grace the table
for the yearly feast.
With the passing of years Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa and so
many of them are gone. Left behind are warm memories of Thanksgiving.
But it isn’t all about memories. My wife and I enjoy a
simple Thanksgiving Dinner with each other every year. I still make the same
dressing each year, accompanied by the past, while her and I create fresh
moments each year.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Next year we’ll discuss WKRP and the infamous Turkey Drop.
