“Over the river and through the wood, to Grandmother’s house we go. . .” The words to an old Thanksgiving song live in my memory as part of our family’s Thanksgiving tradition. We always had Thanksgiving dinner at my grandparents’ house. I remember watching my “Grammy” and my mother bustle about the old kitchen. The men, and we children, always stayed out of the way in the living room, snacking on nuts.
When we got the call to come eat, the food was already laid out. Blue Willow china place settings rimmed the table, with a huge turkey in the center. My grandmother always prepared traditional New England dishes—mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, mashed turnips, peas and corn, cranberry sauce, pickles, and huge, fluffy biscuits. Everyone ate until we groaned, but we always had room for Grammy’s pies.
Pie was my grandmother’s specialty, baked in 10-inch pie plates. They were the biggest pies I’ve ever seen, with flakey, homemade crust. Lemon meringue, apple, raspberry, pumpkin, and real mincemeat pies loaded down the kitchen counter. Grammy cut huge slabs of pie for each of us and served our portion topped with vanilla ice cream. We all wolfed down every bite.
The traditions we’ve made with our family are different from those of my childhood. Every generation and every family has its own traditions and memories. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving, making another memory to cherish.