I think our family tradition is anything goes except TURKEY. I tried to revive the turkey last year because it gave me a good reason to make Alby’s bourbon sweet potatoes. Boozy potatoes don’t make us suddenly like turkey. Lesson learned.
Kelly must have been in junior high the year I said, “Let’s have a pasta bar for Thanksgiving,” and proceeded to make three different pastas, a few different sauces, and several meat choices. Not only was it easy, but it was also a welcome change.
Then there was the year I had Jan and Howard up for Thanksgiving. It was Italian again, but Howard was the primary chef—a position he loves. His specialty was chicken tetrazzini, but there was a tableful of other choices as well.
Another year, the theme was Italian seafood, with a big pot of fish stew, crab linguini, and an improvised lasagna with veggies in it.
A few years ago, I made a huge brisket that I ordered from Snake River Farms and then, despite my best intentions, I overcooked it. Even the most expensive cut of meat can’t make up for that.
I have photographic evidence that one year the meal was Mexican, and the family was perfectly happy filling their plates with tacos and fajitas. After a quick vote, we have opted to go Mexican again this year.
But the food really isn’t my favorite part of Thanksgiving.
My favorite part is getting 14+ people to fit around my dining room table and the snuggles with the grands that follow the meal. Then we round it all out with a rowdy game of Left, Right, Middle, where it’s not unusual to lose all my money to one of the Hitt shysters. The oldest grand even calls me ahead of time to remind me to get my cash ready because he is coming over to win it.
It was incredibly satisfying that one time when I walked away with the win.
So maybe we do have a Thanksgiving tradition after all.
It just isn’t turkey.
