More than Thankful

I believe cooking stirs the soul.  And, with Thanksgiving just around the corner, as we are adding eggs or butter to our recipes, inhaling the mixed aromas in the kitchen, our thoughts have a tendency to dwell in the past and review past Thanksgivings with family and friends.

My mother was a fabulous cook and there were six children in the family so I might add she was a short order cook, as well.  It took her weeks to prepare for Thanksgiving because every window in the house had to be washed and curtains had to be starched and then ironed by hand. There is no way that I would ever attempt such a feat, if I even desired to, but I remember her strength and determination with pride. And, then there were the standard hand-me-down recipes that now have become a tradition:  Curried Four Fruit Bake which was a collection of canned fruit, dried, where the  pineapples had to be rings so maraschino cherries could be placed into them and then curry, brown sugar and butter were added.  This dish cooked for an hour.  It was delicious, but for some reason it has now become a family joke - like the passed around fruit cake, I suppose.

In addition to the six of us(twins and then four others who followed successively) our aunts lived behind us: two were single and then two were nuns in the convent.  They all doted on us, brought us books for Christmas, made our clothes and came for every single holiday.  I remember my father was not too pleased that we had no cousins from his side and did resent having so many nun sisters.  Each year at Thanksgiving he would make one of them start Grace, the prayer of Thanksgiving, but we all knew he was being sarcastic because of his hidden anger over what he considered to be their wasted lives.  He'd say, "Now, girls, what did the convent teach you this year?  Did you learn how to say Grace?  Well, then teach us now!"  And demurely one of them would quietly make the sign of the cross and begin. From my aunts we learned what grace really meant because in their quiet, kind, loving manner all barbs and offenses were carefully turned into sincere acts.  And, when the food was served and my mother finally got to sit down,the Thanksgiving table became an arena of delicious laughter where bellies were stuffed and stories were laden with embellishments. 

Yes, I do believe cooking stirs the soul and so on this auspicious occasion, may I wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving where new memories mixed with the old, can cause us all to pause and be more than thankful.