Taste of Thanksgiving

Taste of Thanksgiving

Surprisingly, he was a very good cook. I say ‘surprisingly’ because a stereotype had taken over. As soon as I saw him striding towards the back door ~ grubby overalls, an old leather, sweat stained stetson that sat back on his dirt stained forehead, work boots he had to leave outside because they were covered in sloppy mud ~ I had him pegged as someone who expected his supper to be on time and only to his liking.

Then he came downstairs after cleaning off the dirt and dust of a farmer’s active life in barn and field. Granted, even though he ‘cleaned up real good’, I was still curious to see how he could cook a turkey better than my own mother. I didn’t know how good his mother’s turkey cooking skills were so would have to wait for the taste test at supper. I didn’t have to wait that long to see how he moved in the kitchen. It was as though his movements had been choreographed - from refrigerator to cupboard to stove and back, chopping bacon, onions and mushrooms, deboning the turkey, brining it in buttermilk and putting it all together. Later that evening when friends and family were gathered round the table, the Taste was truly Thanksgiving.

“People don’t want other people to be people.”

~  Gene Wolfe,  Shadow & Claw