For the last 4 years, we've hosted Thanksgiving. It's sort of "our thing".
I love the challenge of feeding anywhere from 14-18 people out of one small oven. And it's especially challenging when the meal consists of yummy and warm roasted and oven-cooked food.
Every year my mother-in-law brings the turkey breasts (and my father jokingly makes "how're your breasts doing?" jokes for at least a week to her), my mother makes her famous mashed potatoes. Rob's aunt makes her yummy sweet potatoes. My father brings the red wine. We get our favorite Viognier for the white. My grandfather brings beer, and then drinks half of it. And I surprise everyone with a new first course soup.
This year, however, we're breaking tradition.
Back in July, when we started the renovation of the new house, that was my goal. To be in the house in time to host our first Thanksgiving there. Perhaps I should have mentioned this hope to the termites, that put us 2 weeks behind in our timeline. Or maybe I could have told all of the contractors that didn't call us back, "We have a deadline, people!" so we didn't wait a week for a phone call back.
In any case, it ain't happening.
So the natural thought would be to host Thanksgiving in our current house, which is under contract, waiting for buyers to sell their house, with no closing date in sight. That would have been a GREAT plan, except when we made an effort to eliminate clutter in the basement, all of my entertaining dishes, serve ware, etc was packed away and shipped off to my mother's house. Also, everyone keeps saying things like, "You have so much going on, you don't need to host Thanksgiving."
I know I don't need to host Thanksgiving.
But I want to.
So, we're having Thanksgiving at Mr. KK's parents' house.
Three years ago I made pumpkin and black bean soup, and we served it in hollowed-out gourds instead of bowls. Not only was the soup delicious, the presentation was something straight out of Martha Stewart. The year after that was a creamy butternut squash with freshly-toasted pumpkin seeds on top.
This year the soup would have to travel, but I like a challenge. I was already thinking of some new recipes to try. Maybe a parsnip soup?
And then, Mr. KK and I had this conversation on Friday night:
MR. KK: "So...for Thanksgiving...I think my aunt is going to make soup."
KK: "WHAT???"
MR. KK: "She kept asking my mother, and finally my mother just told her yes."
KK: "But the soup is MY course. I make it every year."
MR.KK: "I guess she's been making butternut squash soup a lot lately in her crock pot and it's come out really good, so she wants to make it for Thanksgiving."
KK: "But your mother told me weeks ago that I could still make my first course. I've been thinking of new soups to make."
MR. KK: "I'm sorry. You can bring something else! And it will be great!"
KK: "I don't want to bring something else. I want to bring soup."
And yes, that's me acting like a 5-year old.
Because the soup is my tradition, dammit.
1 comment:
i feel your pain. i would have cried for sure. because i'm like that.
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