Thanksgiving Memories

Posted November 23, 2007 from Tulsa, OK

Yesterday was Thanksgiving Day. Lovely day here in Tulsa. A little cold, sure, but it is November, after all. Up early, I began to prepare our feast. 'Cuz I wanted to. Tired of cooking for one person, I got to prepare food for four. Yay! By "early," by the way, I mean, like, 9. Early enough.

Sweet potato pies in the oven, I prepared the cornmuffin mix for the stuffing, which would be dressing since we only had turkey breast and no cavity for stuffing stuff. Oh well. We must adapt. Just toss that into a casserole dish and bake it. While the pies were baking, I set to chopping the celery and onions for the stuffing cum dressing. Something I've done for years. I used to work in a cafeteria kitchen for crying out loud. The actual cooking wasn't something I did, although I did have the occasional turn at the stainless steel oar in a soup or two. I did, however, get to chop and clean and rinse and plate up. The grunt work. I watch Food Network because it's interesting to me. My mother taught me how to handle a knife when I was young, probably because I was interested, not because she wanted to impart some special knowledge.

So yesterday, midway through a lovely yellow onion, the mini santoku knife I used slipped. Well, no, that's not accurate. The knife went exactly where it was supposed to go. Unfortunately, so did my left thumb. Lucky for me it was a mini santoku. If it was my knife, I'd have wound up in the ER with a severed digit at best. Calling out from the kitchen, I asked where my aunt kept her bandages. My aunt the RN. Yeah. Having known my mother, since it was her sister, she decided to see for herself just how severe this cut really was. I dunno, she seemed to think dripping blood into her trash can was severe. I missed the fingernail, most of my thumb was still intact. I'd be fine.

Of course, in my household, the only injury that would get mom anxious was a completely severed limb. Anything less was walked off. Oh, there were hospital trips of course, but none of them were ever treated as much of a big deal. Not really worrying too much about the piece of thumb just barely hanging on, I just wanted a bandage so I could finish chopping the onions.
Sadly, my aunt, the aforementioned RN, had other ideas. I had to sit with my arm elevated for 15 minutes before she would even look at it in more detail. Something about stopping the bleeding so it can be treated effectively. At least I could still see the Macy's parade while I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, time to rinse off the damaged digit and wrap 'er up. Of course, this meant my cooking days were over. No more chopping of onions, and the celery was still left to be diced. My aunt finished those up. I couldn't mash the potatoes, my cousin had to help with that. And as for taking things out of the oven, forget it. Already burned one of her favorite oven mitts, so I was banned form there, too. There are days I wonder why I haven't burned my house down. I know my father's wondered that himself. But then I remind myself that even the most competent, talented or telegenic chef has probably had moments when he or she felt like a complete naïf in the kitchen.

Even though I was supposed to sit and relax, the severity of my sever fresh enough to bleed anew with the slightest provocation, I continued to cook. My aunt, again familiar with my mother, decided it would be easier to humor me. She did, of course, put her foot down in a few instances. Like, I'm no longer allowed to handle a knife. I'm on probation. If I can get through Christmas without removing any other body part, my probation will be lifted. The meal I wanted to cook for my family was left to the person who was planning on enjoying the day off. We had other help, though, and I could still do a few things. While I couldn't mash the potatoes, I could add the seasonings and milk. I couldn't put the dressing in the oven, but I could at least mix everything up. Standing around in the kitchen was adversely affecting my injury, so I couldn't really watch everything as I'd preferred. Having to abandon my duties, my pies were overdone, the crust a little burnt. The dressing was also overdone, forgot about it in the oven. Fortunately, most of it, I could salvage. The turkey, I'd say, was on par with most people who have some idea what they're doing. The mashed potatoes were great, though, and gobbled down with enthusiasm. As was the dressing, the turkey, and the pie.

Later, there would be karaoke and closing bars, and fruitless searches for a snack before bed, but not before passing Toys 'R' Us and seeing a line around the building at 4:15 AM. Kohls was already open, of course, to what end, I don't know, but that's another story entirely.

This one is about food that wasn't done the way everyone wanted, and people who didn't actually care, 'cuz they were with people they loved.

Totally one of the best Thanksgivings ever!