Turkey Fatigue

 

 Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. It's my favorite holiday. I think it's appropriate to take at least one day of the year and give thought to our many blessings, and thank God for them. It's also the one day of the year when a person can get away with eating massive amounts of delicious food and not feel too guilty about it.

 

Like many households in America, we had turkey for dinner. One of my sons-in-law wanted ham as well, and since he donated one, we cooked it also. Of course there was all the trimmings to go with the meat- green bean casserole, candied yams with marshmallows, cranberry sauce, deviled eggs, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry Jello salad with cream cheese, a relish tray and of course pie. Pumpkin and apple both. 

 

Even though there were eleven people at my table, our stomachs can only hold so much at one sitting. That means leftovers. I don't mind leftovers for a day or two, but we still have turkey in the refrigerator, and frankly, I'm getting tired of turkey sandwiches; and I like them.

 

For some reason, one son-in-law can never figure out how much of any one item to cook. He always makes enough to feed many more people than are present. For Thanksgiving, he made mashed potatoes. I guess he really likes them, or figured that we all did. He cooked up a ten pound bag. Then, fearing that there wouldn't be enough, he cooked up another five pound bag of spuds. Fifteen pounds of mashed potatoes for eleven people; and two of them were under five years old. Holy crow! Needless to say there were plenty of potatoes left over. Can you say potato pancakes?

 

We had cooked a twenty pound turkey, plus the ham, so everyone left the house with ample amounts of food for the next day or two-or three. The problem is, even though we got rid of most of the turkey, there was still so much left. I guess we can freeze it.  I would make up some sandwiches and go out to the homeless population, but we don't have a large homeless population where I live, and if we did, I fear that by the time I handed out the sandwiches, the bread would be soggy from the mayo, and then instead of a God Bless You, I might earn a curse. They would know that I was making a desperate attempt to unload our extra turkey on them.

 

Have you ever noticed that the pie never lasts for too long? By the time the family has picked through the food to take home, much like the hoards of Ghengis Khan, you're lucky if there is a piece of pumpkin or apple pie to have for a midnight snack. I should probably make a separate one and hide it in the garage. I did that with a really, really good custard pie I made once. When my daughter Jennifer showed up with my granddaughter unexpectedly, I spirited it away to the pantry and closed the door. I know that I should be ashamed of myself, but honestly, that pie was so good.

 

I suppose I should be glad that there wasn't any extra pie to go around. When I stepped on the scale today, I found that I'd gained a pound or two just since Thursday. This is just the beginning of sorrows. Christmas is next, and no matter how much I plead with people not to send goodies to the house, they do. I'm going to assume it's because they love me, or perhaps they just like fat people and want me to join the ranks. Ah well.