Don't you love that there is one holiday dedicated to the salivary glands?
Say the word Thanksgiving and I immediately taste/smell browning turkey skin, herbal bread mixtures, cranberries popping with orange, rutabaga's melting butter, mashed potatoes pooled with gravy, pumpkin pie - and infinite pairings of lesser culinary cousins. One of my family's extras is dried soybeans, simmered for hours with butter, called "keckling" from our Pa Dutch heritage; another relative always had sauerkraut as an add-on. But whatever you add on, aromas rule!
Whenever I go somewhere for Thanksgiving where I am not an intimate part of the cooking, I feel cheated because I can live for a long time on the sumptuous odors of roasting turkey and all the fixings - plus, Thanksgiving away means no leftovers to plunder for days.
I guess my expectations for the food of other holidays vary all over the ballpark. But Thanksgiving is rock-solid unchanging goodness.
Like a mother at the end of the line.
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