Giving thanks takes on a new meaning this year, as we eat our first home grown meat. Martyn and I will prepare a special meal for each other on Friday, of lamb, our own vegetables,and homemade pie, of which Billy Baker the one eyed pug still fancies. I'll use our own walnuts this year instead of pecans. We will go to our favorite local voigneur and buy a bottle or two of his Pinot, and drink it with our paté appetizer.
I had heard a chef on NPR who started growing her own lamb because she couldn't find any in her area that was organic. She said that cooking took on a different feeling for her, that after raising the animal, the cooking prep was still like having a relationship with the animal. Cutting the meat, seasoning it, all were acts of respect, and thanksgiving.
I will be missing my mother's cooking on Thanksgiving Day though. She makes the same menu every year. A couple times we suggested she add this or that - absolutely NOT - why mess with the perfect meal? How many times did I awake in a nearby bedroom, only to smell the stuffing being prepped in the morning? Or how many times did I get to test the pie crust with her pie crust cookies? How many times did I hear her say after the meal was over, "Oh, the gravy wasn't that good this year", when of course, it was perfect. Food and cooking smells can take a person back to other times, and pleasant memories - in that way, food is a thread to all our friends and families.
So Happy Thanksgiving to all beings - little pugs, donkeys near and far, old dogs gone, families gathering, or not -it is a day to come together, and remember where you came from, and where you are now, and hopefully somewhere in the day you will share of yourself.
