Thanksgiving thoughts 2018

On the way!

Saltine crackers with a bit of French bread.

chopped onions

chopped celery

chopped parsley

Turkey liver, about to be chopped into tiny bits.

Stuffing is put together.

Putting the stuffing together

moistened saltine crackers and French bread

sautéed onions

Turkey neck and gizzards cooked into a broth with onion and carrot – used for basting

The turkey end, about to have a bit of stuffing and then sewn up.

The end all sewn up.

Basting the bird!

I say this without fail each year. I say that the sewing together of the turkey is worse than ever. People do not sew turkeys anymore; they do not make stuffing that requires it. Although we procured a most wonderful turkey, approaching twenty pounds, from Harrison’s in Glenview, the skin was an issue for me as I did my utmost to put in the liquid stuffing my mother, grandmother, and I am sure, great-grandmothers put in their holiday fowl.

It is just past noon. I am listening to Ludovico Einaudi on the Sonos in the dining room. I had on my beloved Snow Patrol beforehand, music to get me through a slightly stressful, pre-holiday dinner moment.

I sautéed the onions in butter before mixing in the finely chopped turkey liver, moistened and drained saltine crackers, small amount of French bread, finely chopped celery, parsley, and folded in the well beaten dozen of eggs. The preceding was seasoned with salt and pepper. I then set about to put stuffing in the tail end of the bird, before sewing it up. I turned it over and filled the turkey, first slipping my hand in between the breast and skin to open it more, then putting stuffing there before filling up the entire cavity and sewing it shut.

It has been in the oven at four hundred degrees for almost an hour, then I will pull it down to three hundred twenty-five or so before completing the roasting. I am basting it every so often and have already covered the legs with foil to keep them from getting overly browned.

I am channeling my ancestors, remembering my mom, my beloved grandmother, and my traditions, languages , culture, and history, all allowed because my grandparents, fleeing less than a great life in Europe were welcomed here. My grandmother cleaned homes to make ends meet and once, she even endured being on welfare.

My life is so different because of them.

I cry inside for those mothers and children who were separated from one another, all under the guise of protection, victims of a Fascist régime that is currently plaguing our country. Those mothers and children are just some of the few who are being persecuted currently in our country, founded for liberty for all. What a travesty!

I thank God that we are alive and have a good, entitled white life, but I hanker for that same scenario for everyone, with education and healthcare for all as a given, and equality for everyone.

About Richard Koerner

Almost seventy something, father, papi, educator, organizer, Francophile, traveler, amateur photographer, gardener, cyclist, kayaker, calligrapher, cinephile, reader, and overall renaissance type human being.
This entry was posted in Life in general, Thanksgiving, Thoughts and philosophy. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Thanksgiving thoughts 2018

  1. Loel Joseph (Joey) LaMarre says:

    Great comment. My parents were from the silent generation. I try to channel the good of them often. Politics has ruined my family dynamic. It so depresses me. But I hope for better days.

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