Remembering the Thanksgiving traditions of a childhood in New England and a mom who, it seemed, could do it all.
As a kid growing up in New England, Thanksgiving meant heading to school dressed like a pilgrim and looking forward to a few extra days to spend at home with family. Since Mom was a professional chef, we took Thanksgiving extra seriously. This was the time the leaves turned colors and we had bushel baskets of McIntosh apples and butternut squash stored in the cellar.
My mother started to prepare days before, shopping for ingredients and cooking anything that could be done ahead, like the filling for pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce. The night before Thanksgiving, my mother stayed up late making stuffing and flaky pie crust. My father always helped by peeling vegetables and us kids – we helped set the table.
On Thanksgiving Day, my Mom got up at dawn. With only one oven, it was a juggling act. I can still remember waking up to the smell of turkey roasting all the way upstairs in my room.
Probably because it focusses on food, Thanksgiving has always been a favorite holiday of mine. Plus it brings back lots of great memories. And now, every year when I smell the roasted turkey and mash potatoes, I always think of my mom and the joy she felt sharing the table with those who were closest to her heart. For this, and so many other great memories, I'm feeling quite thankful!