Thanksgiving is my favourite holiday. Many of my new foreign friends have asked me to explain what Thanksgiving is all about, having only experienced it through movies. I tell them, Thanksgiving is about being thankful for all of the things that you have; family, friends, life, freedom, etc. This year I am away from my family on Thanksgiving for the first time. I thought I'd find myself feeling sad and nostalgic, but instead I found myself quite happy and, appropriately, thankful. This year I am thankful for my family's support, the opportunities that life has given me, my amazing friends, the air in my lungs, and immense potential of my future.
Bringing Thanksgiving to England was something that Jessica and I discussed in one of our very first conversations, three months ago. It seemed so distant back then, and this week it was suddenly upon us. All of a sudden there was so much to do and not enough time. We had no idea the hiccups that we would face along the way. We conquered them with grace, if I do say so myself. Here is a very abbreviated, fast-forwarded recounting of the past few days.
Early in the week we began the hunt for all things Thanksgiving. Luckily, we had noticed a few things missing from grocery stores weeks ago and Jessica's mother was able to bring them from America (canned pumpkin for example). We underestimated, however, the extreme differences a few essential grocery items. For example, British grocery stores do not regularly stock: pre-made pie crust, graham cracker pie crust (or graham crackers, for that matter), pre made vegetable/chicken stock, stuffing bread cubes, and CoolWhip (or a British equivalent). After frantically running from store-to-store all day on Wednesday, almost all of the necessary ingredients had been rounded up or substituted.
I spent Wednesday night in the kitchen baking pies. I made my own mock-graham cracker pie crust with ginger snaps, as they were the closest thing I could find. I converted all of the ounce measurements on my recipes into millilitres. Cream cheese pie was easy enough (thank goodness for Jessica's sweetened condensed milk) and quickly went into the fridge to chill. The apple pie, however, proved more difficult. I was left to make my own pie crust (which I have never done before) and to peel and slice apples with crappy, dull, small knives. Luckily I had Patrick, who is an excellent sous chef/slave dishwasher. Couldn't have done it without him! After 3 hours in the kitchen, both pies were done and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Thursday morning Jessica, Dawn, and I headed to Putney to pick up the pre-cooked turkeys from Marks & Spencer (a local, fancy grocery store). I bought vegetable stock cubes (in lieu of ready-made vegetable stock) as well. Imagine our shock when the friendly M&S boys brought down 3 stuffed, garnished, and uncooked turkeys from the refrigerator upstairs. Once panic subsided, we smiled in the face of a challenge and quickly rushed home to get the birds in the oven. This was my first attempt at roasting a turkey. I was worried, but had a tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me it was possible. I spent the afternoon babysitting the turkey and attempting to study.
At long last it was time for the feast. We were able to use a large lecture room in the main building here at Whitelands. We pushed all of the tables together to make one long table that reminded me of a Whos-Down-in-Whoville-esque feast. Lots of people brought lots of different kinds of food. Somehow it fell upon me to carve the turkeys. Sadly, I think I butchered them quite horribly but my attempt might make my family proud. We all sat down and, after a short welcome speech from Jess, we ate. The room was suddenly quiet as everyone dug in.
Of the 30+ people who came, only about 10 had ever experienced a Thanksgiving before. The newcomers were delighted with all of the different types of food. With so many happy friends around it felt strangely like home. We feasted and socialised for about 3 hours, cleaned up, and then happily fell into food comas. What a fantastic Thanksgiving!
