Thanksgiving Sandwich (It's mainly about leftovers - but there's also a story)

I hope you’ll forgive me if I type with my mouth full. I just couldn’t wait to eat the sandwich I made this morning, and so I’m sitting down to lunch and writing and eating at the same time. (This is multi-tasking at work that I’m happy to do.)

Oh. Let me explain what I’m eating via this morning’s video:

Yeah. You really don’t need a recipe for this, right? It’s pretty basic.

You’ve got your main ingredients in their plastic containers/bags.

The Green Bean Casserole is still in the fridge - not going into my sandwich.

You’ve got your one or two add-ins to pull it together, if you so desire. (Note: The mayo, above, probably also should have been in this photo.)

Of these, only the salt and pepper went into my sandwich today.

And then you’ve got assembly.

I’m partial to mayo for this, in part because it moistens the turkey, but also because it’s got a good “adhesive” quality for holding everything together.

For the record, this is also a good time to get rid of the skin, because... well... it doesn't do much for the sandwich.

Depending on the moisture content of your stuffing, you may need more or less of that adhesive . . .

We won't discuss whether or not a chunk of stuffing may have bounced out of the sandwich and onto the floor during an early photo attempt.

Finally, I’m a huge proponent of using reusable containers for my lunch. But, for these sandwiches, I believe a tight wrap in foil is best. It helps to keep everything together and not shifting and falling apart when I toss it into my bag and carry it to work.

That reminds me – the Christmas Cake is still well wrapped in its container in the coolest area of our basement. I doused it with brandy again last night, and it’s gotten *so* much more moist than it felt when I first put it away. I think it’s going to be amazing in a few weeks!

And, yes, I promised you a story:

When I was growing up, we lived about 13 miles from where my dad grew up, and would always go to my grandmother's for major holiday meals. (Before you ask, no, we didn't go over any rivers or through any woods to get there.) All of these meals were served at Noon. Not 11:50. Not 12:05. Noon. And you had to be there and seated by then so that a prayer could be said and food could be served and passed. 

I landed at a kind of strange point in the genealogy of the family - my dad was the 7th of 8 kids in the family, and I'm the youngest of 4. That means that I spent a lot of time at the kids' table in the spare bedroom with a few first cousins we typically only saw on holidays, as well as any "first cousins, once removed" who were in attendance, while the rest of "my generation" (including my siblings) were with the grown-ups around the big table in the living room. 

Finally, when I was in either junior high or high school, I got moved to the adult table - sure, I was typically sharing the window seat with one of my sisters, but at least it was in the living room. (The kitchen had a table, but for big family gatherings it was typically covered with the detritus of meal prep, and there was no room for eating.) 

Someone would say grace (at Noon - which you knew already, if you were paying attention), and then we'd serve ourselves whatever was in front of us and pass the dish to the next person. This was always an issue, though, for the first few moments. Although we'd typically end up passing to the left (clockwise), there was always that one person who started out passing to the right. This was a problem, of course, because we all had to go the same way or else the world would explode! (Or, even worse, we'd miss the olive tray.) I don't remember any fights as a result of this, though I do remember some voices raised in consternation. 

My grandmother made dressing (stuffing?) that was like nothing I had anywhere else. It was denser than we had at home - more the texture of a bread pudding than individual cubes of bread. I didn't really enjoy it as a kid (I think I heard along the way that all of the weird meats inside the turkey went into it, which freaked me out), but I have fond memories of it to this day. 

There were always homemade sweet pickles, as well as canned olives, the cranberry sauce that comes out of a can with rings "so you know where to cut it," and - of course - turkey and pumpkin pie. And I seem to remember lots of post-dinner football games on the TV in the corner of the living room as we cleared up and settled in. 

It's funny how those Thanksgivings - which we all sort of wanted to change, since they started so early and we had to be dressed and out the door and over there in time, usually bringing foods Mom had had to prep earlier in the day, just so we could see relatives we didn't really know - now play a big part in how I think of Thanksgiving. 

As holidays go, I have to admit it's my kind of day. There's food, people, a parade (and football) on TV, and no real expectations beyond that. And, for people as lucky as I have been, there are also lots of memories - which (like Thanksgiving leftovers) tend to get better with time.

Not that you probably need a second video for this, but here's something short, anyway:

Speaking of the Holidays… I don’t know if all of you read my weekly (or slightly less frequent) posts about editing and writing. (They typically get posted on Sundays.) This week, I’m diving into the idea of memoir/ biography/ autobiography – and the fact that the Holiday season is the perfect time to get started. If that interests you at all, definitely stop back on Sunday afternoon to get my thoughts on the matter!

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Searching for a specific Christmas cookie recipe – either an old favorite or something that you think only exists in the realm of legend? Or maybe you want a Jell-o salad you can use to impress your guests? Let me know and I’ll see if I can work it in in the next month!