Thanksgiving Mornings | Peggy's Little Corner

September 25, 2014

Very early on Thanksgiving morning, I usually wake up alone and in the cold, dim, November light. It’s almost always chilly on the hardwood floors, as the fire has usually gone out some time in the night, but the kitchen warms up quickly once I fire up the oven for a busy day. I traditionally start my day by using the cook’s prerogative to make breakfast out of a cup of hot tea and a slice of one of our pies I baked the day before. For me, it’s usually sweet potato pie, but I have my choice of apple and pumpkin as well. In spite of the early hour, Dobby, and in more recent years Harry, usually joins me in the kitchen to see what sort of madness I am doing at this indecent hour. Dobby has always kept me company on the kitchen rug, overseeing the process through lazy eyes, but Harry gives up on me within a few minutes and retreats to his chair in the living room. Both stay long enough for a piece of their favorite pies, though. I guess they feel the dog prerogative encompasses pie sampling as well.

The quiet time I enjoy before everyone else awakens allows me to collect my thoughts and gear up for the next few hours. Seeing the dogs reminds me of going for our turkey on Monday. The farm we use is at the end of a long drive into the foothills near our home, and the drive is pleasant and full of fall color. The dogs love to get to smell the wild smells that only deeply forested hills can afford. The farm itself is secluded and is an old fashioned operation that refuses to pump their turkeys full of hormones, saline solution, or to cull their stock before they are proper adults. Because the turkeys are fresh, there is no need to thaw the bird, and I am able to simply remove it from the refrigerator to the oven. My husband usually crawls out of bed for a cup of coffee as soon as he hears the clink of the roasting pan, because he knows I need an extra pair of hands to stuff some of my family’s old fashioned sage dressing in the turkey. This dressing, which I make the night before to let the onions, sage, butter, and celery soak into the breadcrumbs, is the smell of the season for my family, and I have a difficult time getting my family out of the container and it into the bird!

After the turkey goes in the oven, I begin mixing up my aunt’s famous yeast roll recipe. I’ll set this aside to rise while I begin with the other trimmings: scalloped corn, buttery green beans with onions, mashed sweet potatoes, and buttermilk mashed potatoes. Once the onions hit the butter in the skillet for the scalloped corn, the kids usually come downstairs to investigate the good smells. By this time, the frost has begun to glisten with the morning light, and everything is on its way to being baked for lunch. My daughter usually turns on some of the parades on TV, while my son and husband pull up the extra table from the cellar to extend our dining space. I pull out my old tablecloth I made years ago, and begin setting the table to accommodate the surplus of food and guests. Regardless of the number of guests, however, my process is still the same, both because I like to see my home at its finest, and because the number of dishes simply needs the space. Thanksgiving is a feast, after all.

The cranberry sauce, which I made the day before, and has been chilling along with the homemade whipped cream, is set on the table with the old spongeware and my good silverware. Sometimes I still have fresh sage available in the garden, and if I do, I decorate it around my turkey candy dish, a nice symbol of the day. Other years, when my daughter’s birthday falls on Thanksgiving, I bake a Turkey shaped spiced cake to sit here.

Activity picks up quickly in the few hours before everyone arrives, and by noon my extended family arrive to a table full of fresh yeast rolls, homemade cranberry sauce, scalloped corn, green beans, mashed potatoes, homemade gravy, mashed sweet potatoes, apple cider from the local apple house, freshly brewed iced tea, homemade whipped topping, apple pie, pumpkin pie, sweet potato pie, turkey, and even some pan warmed Tofurky and a separate pan of sage dressing for my vegetarians. It is the same every year, gone in less than half an hour, but the rest of the day we have to enjoy the leftovers, family, an autumn walk for the dogs, and some grazing time for the sheep and chickens. By the end of the day, I am exhausted from my busy week, but realize it is not quite over, as the next day I will begin turning the season over for Christmas. What I am most thankful for at the end of this day, though, are the leftovers that will keep me from having to cook while I redecorate the entire house.

Happy Thanksgiving!