Gobble Gobble

I like a lot of traditional Thanksgiving foods. I realized from reading Molly's and Trina's blogs that I might be in the minority on that one. I'm making a turkey. I am a vegetarian, but since I'm preggers, I've been relaxing on that lately. At this point, I'll eat anything that doesn't make me sick. Also, my mother cannot cook a turkey. Well, bless her heart, there is a lot that my mother can't cook, but turkey ranks at the top of the list. I cook my turkey with cinnamon, ginger, apples, oranges, and butter. Knock on wood-- it usually turns out moist and flavorful. One of the few things Mom can make is dressing, so she'll be bringing that along with her hot potato salad. Michael cannot abide a Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes, so he'll be making those. We will also be contributing glazed carrots and a broccoli casserole. The broccoli casserole, if not a uniquely Southern thing is a typical Southern thing. Every casserole constructed in the South contains a can of cream of mushroom soup, a lot of butter and cheese, and Ritz crackers. It might even be a law. Had I not been raised on such fare, I might turn my nose up at it, but as it is, my family has designated me the official broccoli casserole fixer. For Christmas, Thanksgiving, picnics, whatever-- I'm expected to show up with a broccoli casserole. For dessert, Mom is bringing a banana pudding and I'm making a pumpkin cheesecake. Somehow, something chocolate will find its way onto the table. It always does. This is a very traditional meal, but Michael and I do need a little variety, so we're making sausage balls and hot artichoke and sundried tomato dip, and this will likely be our favorite part of the meal. Sausage balls, in case you don't know, are a construction of spicy pork sausage, sharp cheddar cheese, and Bisquik, rolled into acorn-sized balls. Molly thinks "sausage balls" sound like a porcine version of mountain oysters, so we're trying to think of an alternate name. Sausage poppers anybody? Southern pork circles?
Oh, and one more thing. Ginger has long been a home remedy for pregnancy sickness, and I find that it works better than anything, so I'll be munching on bits of candied ginger throughout the day.
On Black Friday, Michael and I will do nothing. We'll lie around watching TV and movies, and I'll knit on a pair of socks that have been languishing since last November. We do not shop on the weekend after Thanksgiving. It's our way of protesting our culture of consumerism. It's a small statement, but it's important to us. Inevitably, news reports on Monday will say how this year's after-Thanksgiving sales figures were lower than expected. They say that every year, and here's why: The people who make the projections are greedy bastards! A 100% profit just isn't enough for them. Cry me a river, assholes.
The true origins of Thanksgiving are lost, hidden, and/or twisted to suit multiple agendas. This is true of most holidays. For my part, I like Thanksgiving, which is perhaps strange coming from someone with a strong Native American heritage, but I am in favor of continuing and honoring traditions that bring families together, give us a day off work, and encourage individuals to be grateful for the things they have, if only for one day. Regardless of how or to whom you give thanks, or how you choose to observe or ignore Thanksgiving, I wish you health and abundance.