Thanks to the Giving

I was in heaven being at home and having real food placed before. There are times when I question the source of what I eat at school. I have picked our turkey to the bone. I have eaten turkey with every meal since our early Thanksgiving lunch. I woke up to my mom tossing around dishes at about 6am and went downstairs to give her a hand; she has a bad back and shouldn't be standing too much. I did everything she would actually admit to needing help with, realizing that I have become to her what she is to my grandmother. I've watched her for many years be the "second-hand man" to my grandmother in the kitchen and this is exactly what my purpose had now become. The gravy needed stirring while the pies were placed in the oven for warming; I was there. After our early lunch, about 11am, we all sat down for some much needed rest and pie. Around 4pm, we left the house for a movie. My sisters are six and seven so the movie of choice was A Christmas Carol in 3D. This was our Thanksgiving Day; nothing elaborate because we don't have family in the area, but it was exactly what I was wanting. I have yet to go out because I feel like I can do plenty of that when I return to Tech. I have enjoyed my sitting on the couch, decorating the house for Christmas (our after-Thanksgiving tradition), and doing Calc homework (it never fails). As everyone else began decorating the tree, I received the request of making my grandmother's recipe for Buckeyes. These are bite-sized balls of sugary peanut butter dipped in chocolate and place in the refrigerator for hardening. As I am writing, the balls of PB are sitting in the fridge waiting to be dipped. The only problem? When I went to buy the ingredients, the local grocer didn't carry the parafin wax necessary for thickening the chocolate dip. My mother and I had much fun rolling these sticky, greasy balls of PB. Mom resorted to using two spoons and made some not-so-spherical forms. But I insisted on doing it as I had seen my grandmother do it, digging in with both hands covered in powdered sugar to minimize the stickage to my hands. This was interesting, but nevertheless, it was tradition.

I remember watching my grandmother spend hours in the kitchen baking and once I was old enough to learn, I began to help. Of course, when I was younger I had a much smaller attention span and baking became uninteresting after the first couple of steps. I would always leave after the stirring had been done. It was nastalgic to think that I had now become the head baker in the family since mom was busy orchestrating my sister's decorating and arguing in the other room. Throughout the past couple weeks, I have noticed my interest shifting from baking to also cooking. I was never really interested in food, but sweets were a binding part of the meal in my mind. Dessert was the most comforting to me. I have encouraged Mom to start doing more cooking like she used to. She's always had this interest for trying new dishes; we never eat the same type of food during the week. One day we will have Italian, the next Indian. It is amazing the things my mother can come up with. I have vowed to return on the eighth with ideas and recipes for my family to try. I have become a lot more adamant about my sisters turning down the juices and snacks for milk and water. At the same time, I have refused to let my sister prepare new food when there is plenty for her to choose from. I think Pollan really got into my head about everyone sitting down and eating the same meal at the same time. This is one thing I grew up with that I am determined to instill in my sisters.