……any dinner rooted in the idea of a gratified holiday simply doesn’t seem appealing
How do our food traditions change in the wake of hard times? Do they become a solace, a space for reprieve, or do they adjust or perhaps fade away? The following piece was as cathartic as it was difficult to write, as I reflect on a temporary pause on one of my most loved of foodie holidays.
This is a story of sadness, distraction, and Canadian Thanksgiving.
The second Monday of October will always my official start to Autumn. With all its sweater-weather coziness, shorter days, and of course, the lead up to Halloween. I can’t remember making such a fuss about Thanksgiving in Canada when I was growing up (and yes, it is a different holiday from our neighbours to the south), however, these last few years I’ve come to cling to this feast-based tradition quite strongly. Clearly a response to take comfort in something innately familiar while no longer calling Canada home. I mean, it will always be ‘home’, but it’s not my ‘home’ now, you know what I mean?
The first time I ever hosted a Thanksgiving was in Sicily, Italy. I was visiting my then boyfriend/now husband, in 2015. I’m not sure how I came up with the idea, but a few days after I did, I was scouring the grocery store with my shopping list scribbled down and preparing to host a dinner of eight. The menu was quite typical for the holiday, garlic mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, a vegetarian turkey-wellington with homemade stuffing, and of course, pumpkin pie with the crust made from scratch. I had been going through something personally difficult at the time, and I found myself breaking down in tears to my then boyfriend/now husband while I was trying to cook. Sitting on a kitchen chair with every surface in the room covered in prep work, I can remember the weight of the heavy tears falling into my hands. Though, somehow getting back to chopping potatoes and rolling out pie dough seemed exactly what I needed to make myself feel better. By the end of the night receiving kind reviews from our guests and having the beloved leftovers to look forward to the next day, I thought this was something I needed to keep up…
…and that I did in the following years after we moved to London, United Kingdom. The early celebrations were made up of a small number family and friends, an occasion to move the furniture and extend the dining table. A sit-down dinner that would start at 4pm, and a dress code of smart casual with guests invited to wear shoes in the house (the only occasion I ever allow it). A welcome cocktail made up of apple cider, Canadian whiskey, and touch of maple syrup, and the Hockey Night in Canada theme song to mark the start of the evening. Guests were asked to find their name on the turkey hand placeholders where they would find the usual Thanksgiving fare of garlic mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, vegetarian turkey-wellington with homemade stuffing, and of course, pumpkin pie with the crust made from scratch, all served family style. Going around the table, we would take turns to share what each of us were thankful for, and I would always prepare a Canadian quiz game. With the fortune of an ever-expanding guestlist, the dinner evolved into a potluck. Before you ask, no, I would not coordinate what everyone was going to bring, partly for amusement but mainly for laziness. Though I would aim to cover at minimum a few starters (like an herb cheese bomb rolled in pretzels), something more substantial for a main (like an easy vegetarian roast), and a dessert or two (like mini pumpkin cheesecakes). Some traditions stayed the same, such as the welcome cocktail, the Hockey Night in Canada theme song, and the now ubiquitous Canadian quiz. Of course, Covid changed our options for some time, but in 2022 we came back in full swing hosting not one, but two! potlucks - one for the families at my daughter’s nursery, and the other for our close comrades.
This year however, well, this year is different. It’s been a hard one for many reasons I won’t detail here, but having gone through a series of unfortunate events as we’ll call them, I was only able to mildly fathom the idea of a Thanksgiving. I thought I would be safe by scaling it back, but even while I was sending the invite to a very small number of guests, it didn’t feel right. While I am blessed in many ways that I feel grateful for daily, and genuinely I do, my heart simply hasn’t been in a lets-all-come-together-and-be-thankful kinda mood. In the end I changed my mind, and instead planned for a very low-key dinner for when my in-laws would be visiting later in October, a belated festivity. I didn’t want to serve the usual menu, and was planning for a ridiculous ode to the pumpkin; pumpkin soup served with warm seeded bread, pumpkin lasagna with béchamel and smoked scamorza, and a pumpkin mouse anointed with a ludicrous amount of maple-whiskey laced whipped cream. Believe me, getting that far in the menu planning seemed like a massive victory all things considered. I even began to get excited about it all and then, well, another unfortunate event. My reserves already depleted, I knew I couldn’t muster the mental energy, or a joyful spirit needed to pull off such a dinner. It was time to do what I had tried hard to avoid but my heart knew was inevitable – cancel Thanksgiving.
The heavy weight of this year is different to the time in Sicily, where somehow pressing on with the dinner felt right, felt healing. Now, any dinner rooted in the idea of gratified holiday simply doesn’t seem appealing. But a lot can happen in twelve months. This time next year can and I hope, look very different. It could be the return to a sit-down dinner, or maybe a larger soiree. Stocking up on apple cider, canned pumpkin and green beans, and bringing down the fall décor from the attic. Welcoming family and friends, and stumping them with the most random of Canadian trivia (when in doubt, just answer Alexisonfire). It could be gluttonous, joyful, and reassuring.
Yes, next years second Monday in October might just be… wonderful.
Turkey Hand Place Holders
Materials
Coloured cardboard paper, think your Fall colours; yellows, oranges and reds
Pencil, for tracing
Markers, for embellishments and name writing
Scissors, for cutting (but you knew that)
Method
Put yours, a friends, or a family members hand on a coloured cardboard paper and trace with a pencil. Cut out the stencilled hand with the scissors.
Add a few other details, such as feathers, a beak and the name of one of the guests.
Place on your Thanksgiving table, either at random or with great care at deciding who is sitting where. Or use as part of the celebratory decorations, you really can’t go wrong with homemade turkey hands.
