For me Thanksgiving has always been about the food. I appreciate the family time, especially as I get older and the kids range farther afield. And I do my best to stay grateful, take each day as a blessing. But the food? Most always a slam dunk. And mainly because of my Mother. My Mom was a fabulous cook. About the second week of October my phone would begin to ring and it would be Mom planning the Thanksgiving menu. And, because I am the only other cook in the family, we always planned it together. One of our many bonds, along with a love of books, history, and grandchildren. Well, my children, her grandchildren. Whole turkey or turkey breast? Country ham or spiral sliced? Sauteed haricot verts or long cooked with pork belly? Mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, or stuffing? Yes please. Rolls or cornbread?  And do we need a salad?  My vote was always for salad, mainly because Mom made a simple homemade vinaigrette like no other. And croutons from all that frozen bread cluttering the freezer the last three months.  I’m a run and gun style of cook. Hit the grocery store day before and pull it together on the fly Thanksgiving Day. Fix it in post. For her it was more than a meal, filled with love and unspoken meaning, and menu collaboration and planning was her favorite part. If it’s not on the page, it’s not on the stage. Another thing about our Thanksgiving - everyone was welcome. One year my daughter had befriended a charming fellow fifth grader. Turned out she and her own mother were living in their car, getting by on peanut butter and the occasional kindness of strangers. The girl was irascibly brilliant, and the mom spoke fluent French and Italian. They ended up moving into our guest bedroom for a while. My bachelor cousin Johnny was always there. Usually just out of rehab. Again. And Dad’s best friend with no family from high school. A widowed neighbor. And… well, whoever had no special place to go on Thanksgiving. Welcome. I’ve Read more [...]