Why Thanksgiving Is My Holiday

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, with Christmas Eve and Easter following a close second and third. What’s not to love? Without the gift-giving, card-writing, house-decorating frenzy of Christmas, Thanksgiving is simply about giving thanks and having a feast.

When I was growing up in Carroll Gardens, my siblings and I started Thanksgiving Day by going to the 9:00 AM Mass at Sacred Hearts-St. Stephen Church even though it wasn’t a holy day of obligation. We were very impressed by the Knights of Columbus who were always in attendance with their fancy uniforms, feathered hats, and swords. The choir, rich with some operatic sopranos, always sang. The last hymn of that Mass was the Battle Hymn of the Republic and Father Del Vecchio, our long-time pastor, would proudly sing from the altar while enthusiastically waving his arms to the “Glory, Glory Hallelujah” part. On the way home, we would stop at G&G, located on Henry Street where Key Food is now, or Caruso’s, a little superette that was on the corner of President and Henry, to pick up any last minute things that my mom may have needed. She was, of course, cooking up a storm back home with my dad assisting.

When we got back from Mass, we would begin helping, too, usually peeling and slicing sweet potatoes, setting them up in trays with butter, syrup, and brown sugar, and setting the table. The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade would be on. Back in the old days, 1934’s The March of the Wooden Soldiers was not on until the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Now it’s on at the same time as the parade, so another thing that I’m thankful for is DVR.

Also back in the old days, we had Italian and American food on Thanksgiving always with some kind of pasta after the antipasto and before the turkey and all the trimmings. Something nice and light like stuffed shells to go with the theme of stuffing, stuffed artichokes, and generally feeling stuffed. Speaking of stuffing, everyone has their own family recipe but my mom’s will always be my favorite. She made a rice stuffing with sausage meat and beef chopped meat, mushrooms, onions, garlic, parsley, celery, eggs, turkey giblets that she would never tell us were in there, and a lot of grated cheese. She would take it out of the oven right before we sat down to eat and it would be crispy on top and sizzling and bubbling right beneath the surface. At our table, the turkey always played second fiddle to the stuffing.

When we moved to our house almost 15 years ago, Thanksgiving became my holiday and as a family friend recently told me, “Some people just own certain holidays.” His sister owns Thanksgiving for his family and I seem to own Thanksgiving for mine. Right in time for our first Thanksgiving here, my sister Lisa gave me a beautiful turkey platter; she must have known it would be my holiday, too. In the beginning I embraced Thanksgiving with some trepidation especially since I didn’t like — or rather skeeved — handling poultry. But my dearest Auntie Rie, my mom’s twin, would bring the turkey the day before and scrub it clean, rinse it, and pat it dry for me. She and I also peeled tons of apples for applesauce, made my Uncle Louis’ famous cranberry pineapple relish, and did any other “day before” prep work. Thankfully I have gotten over my aversion to cleaning a turkey and I can now do it all by myself. And I can butter it up, season it, and stuff it with herbs, aromatics and an apple or orange and get it in the oven at the crack of dawn on Thanksgiving morning. I have to roast the turkey early because of all the other things that have to go in the oven later in the day. Truthfully, everybody brings something so my job is manageable. This year, my sister Cristina will make my mom’s stuffing; my brother Frankie will make the mashed potatoes and bring the ham.

We still have antipasto on Thanksgiving but it’s a variation of the kind that we had growing up. I go to Caputo’s Fine Foods on Wednesday to pick up my order which always includes piave vecchio and gorgonzola, fig jam, sliced cacciatorino and hot sopressata, olives, and grilled artichoke hearts. We also have a canellini bean dip made with garlic, lemon, parsley, and olive oil. And maybe some pigs in the blanket for the kiddies. This year, my nephew’s bride who hails from Spain is bringing pimientos rellenos as a tapa! We will also have a toast with a nice spiked apple cider that my son Matthew is in charge of making.

Then it’s time for the main event: the turkey is carved by my hubby (who has been known to carefully study carving techniques on Youtube beforehand) and my brother-in-law Lenny, who always does a great job, the ham is glazed, and numerous trays of biscuits, potatoes and veggies are removed from the oven at roughly the same time; this is a feat I still have trouble mastering. Two years ago, I was so frazzled that the gravy pot I was holding somehow flew out of my hand and hit poor Lenny! He had a lot of gravy on his back but thankfully — the key word of the day — he was unhurt. As soon as we are all seated, and before we dig in, one of the kids will recite a prayer that my dad wrote many years ago on the back of a tally sheet from the pier where he worked. We used to go around the table asking everybody what they were thankful for, but being a highly emotional family that usually resulted in tears which we don’t need. We know that what we’re most thankful for is each other, the ones who are around the table and the ones who are always in the hearts of those around the table.

A meal that took days of shopping and preparation is invariably polished off in what feels like a half hour. Before dessert, Cristina takes charge of doling out leftovers for everybody while the rest of us clean up and make the coffee. Dessert for Thanksgiving has usually been all-American with the traditional apple, pumpkin, and coconut custard pies, some homemade by my brother’s girlfriend, and maybe a cheesecake. One exception was the year after we moved in, when my late neighbor Sal brought us a pizza grana (Italian grain pie) from Court Pastry. He was a real sweetheart.

The day after Thanksgiving is also traditional. When we were kids, we would watch a special morning of cartoons, start playing Christmas music, and maybe start Christmas shopping. Nowadays, I like to sleep late, stay in my PJs all morning, catch up on whatever is on the DVR (maybe parade clips that I missed from the day before), and go to a movie late in the day. No shopping for me; I am not a Black Friday kind of person! The Friday after Thanksgiving precipitates another must — and that is to eat some delicious leftovers. I sometimes think that I appreciate the Thanksgiving leftovers even more than the Thanksgiving Day meal. Wherever you are and however you celebrate, I hope that you have lots to be thankful for this year and that you have some leftovers to enjoy, too!