November 24, 2016 – Thanksgiving leftovers in four acts. 

Act One

          The Thanksgiving meal completed, there would be a small interval of clearing dishes off the table to the kitchen counter and the table at the same time retrieving the pink lace medallion dessert plates and the famous mincemeat pie and the squash pie.

          Dad loved Grammy’s homemade mincemeat pie.  I remember having a bite every once in a while as a child, however, I never acquired a taste for it.  I thought it must be an “adult” thing.  Now that I am older, I need to fish out Grammy’s mincemeat pie recipe and test drive it.  Note to self:  Locate recipe.

          Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter desserts were always served on those delicate looking pink plates.  Grammy Nixon had given them to Mom when the holiday dinners for family moved to our house when they got to be too much for Grammy.

          The plates have a wonderful history.  Back when my grandparents were dating they would often go to the movies and these plates were given out as premium gifts.  Grammy had collected them over time and used them always at the family dinners.

          When my Mom started working full time she also earned premium items at one bank that she regularly deposited savings into.  Mom collected some English scene desserts plates which I remember to be mostly brown with red tints. And, lucky me, when I moved into my first apartment, Mom gave me the 8 pink lace medallion dessert plates as she had new plates.  I cherished them at our first apartment using them only once during a wine and cheese tasting party.

          After my first corporate move, I unwrapped my cherished pink dessert plates only to find I had just 4 left out of 8.  Four of them had been busted into small shards.  It was at that moment with hot tears rolling down my face unchecked I vowed I would use those 4 beautiful pink plates on any and all occasions I served a fancy dessert.  If they were going to be broken, they would be broken by me, using them, not by some careless mover.

          Often, when I use them, guests say, “OH, you shouldn’t use these fancy plates.” I instantly cut them off with my canned speech I have recited over the years of the sad story of my loss of half of the plates to no fault of my own.

          I end it with, “I intend on enjoying them and will enjoy breaking every single one myself.”  [Over 38 years now and not one broken.]     

Act Two

          After dessert, I, my Mom and my Grammy would go to the kitchen and the three of us would wash the dishes.  I always volunteered to wash so that Grammy could dry and Mom could put them away. 

          First I had a full sink of hot soapy water and I would wash the good glasses and rinse them in scalding water and put them in the rack. When those were done, I would do the dishes.  Then I would drain the sink and fill it again with half a sink of hot soapy water and do all the silverware.  Rinse it in scaling hot water and put it on the rack.  During this process, Grammy would dry, and occasional hand me back something she didn’t think was clean enough.  She would turn and set the dried items on the cleaned off kitchen table and Mom would put things away. 

          Then, lastly I would do the pans.  At this point, Grammy would bow out to rest and just I and Mom would be left.   Dishes and pans all washed and put away, my Mom would remove her apron and the kitchen was "officially closed." Mom would retrieve one of Grammy’s crocheted Afghans and carefully and soundlessly drape it over Grandpa as he was sound asleep from his Thanksgiving meal.

          Now as an adult, I practice this same cleanup process and then slip off for my decadent holiday afternoon nap.

Act Three

          It was a tradition that we ate turkey leftovers until it was gone.  As latch key teens, my brother and I were responsible for getting dinner on the table every work night at 5:30.

          I don’t remember what made me and Ken tardy at getting the final traditional left over of Turkey and Rice soup started, but it was one of those rare occasions when my best friend from down the street was at my house.

          All three of us were rushing around the kitchen as it was late – much too late for the traditional process.  Ken had taken the balance of the meat off the turkey carcass and had diced it up.  He diced celery and onions and was sautéing it in a fry pan.

          Meanwhile, I was cooking white rice in one pan at the same time I was bringing the turkey carcass to a rolling boil in a half pot water to get its essence.

          When the celery and onions were done, Ken tossed them into a large deep pot, I added the cooked rice, and then we strained the liquid from the scalded carcass into the pot adding more water.  We turned the burner on high to get the pan to a fast rolling boil.

          Then we got creative and each of us picked various herbs from the spice rack and added what we thought would kick it over.

          Turkey and Rice soup which should be slowly simmered was frothing at a rapid boil in an effort to push it to be ready for a 5:30 supper when our parents got home.

          Surprisingly, it turned out perfect even though we had 3 cooks in the kitchen.  Every Thanksgiving, my best girlfriend mentions that rushed turkey soup cooking saying, “The best Turkey and Rice soup I have ever tasted.”

Act Four

          Usually after I washed dishes with Grammy and Mom, I would walk down to my best girlfriend’s house just the fourth house down the road, just out of sight of my parents’ home.

          I always knew it was safely “after” dinner as her Mom had a quaint old fashioned habit of putting the lids on the saucepans of the leftover vegetables and lining them up on the back porch out in the New England cold while she was attending to washing up the glasses, silverware, and dishes.

          Even now, when I visit after a huge Holiday meal, there will be pans out in the cold on the back porch waiting in queue to be attended to.

          I always smile wistfully at that quaint New England habit because it is always way to hot here in the South to do that down here.