El Día de Gracias: Where was my ‘Merican Fairy God Mother?

Thanksgiving is not only my favorite holiday, but it is classically American. And I am ‘Merican through and through. Don’t be fooled by my international ramblings and ravings. I love the world, but nothing makes me happier than sitting in a clean, cozy, sweet-smelling American living room with my family, watching football, and eating more than humanly possible.

Not being with any ‘Mericans on this holiest of holidays was difficult. I pondered how to best deal with my Turkey Day- homesickness. There was no other solution than to bring Thanksgiving to México and my international amigos! I thought, “I will show them what ‘Mericans are really all about: food, eating, nodding off, shaking it off, eating more, watching football, dozing off while watching football, and lethargy in general. It will be great!”

I set out to find ingredients that do not exist outside of the U.S. like gravy, cranberry sauce, stuffing, pumpkin pie, and turkeys! How ‘Merican-centric are we not to realize that these things are as ‘Merican as apple pie?

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. That is what it took to find the necessary ingredients for a Thanksgiving dinner in Mexico. After a comprehensive search, I found cranberry sauce, and believe it or not, it was the hardest thing to find (with the exception of stuffing). I went to some weird store with expired Pop-tarts and cleaning supplies. They had 1 can of cranberry sauce that was clearly abused in its illegal border crossing in the 70’s. The dent in the can was big enough for the Mexicans to give me a discount without asking for it. Of course, they were very excited by the sale and wished me a happy Thanksgiving. I suspect they had a big laugh once I was gone: “what a sucker.”

Little Kip grows up. Why didn’t anyone tell me that cooking Thanksgiving dinner was so much work? I thought it was a licitly split affair: fill the turkey with some stuffing, pop it in the oven, and wait for 10 minutes. Then, bang, it is done, all the trimmings magically appear on the table, the pumpkin pie cools in the kitchen while we feast. Where was my fairy God mother yesterday?

I now understand why my mom goes up three days before Thanksgiving to cook full-time with my Aunt. Apparently, they don’t just gossip like hens and pretend to work. They must be working like Mexicans from dusk till dawn for almost 3 days. Oy. Another fringe benefit of being a man, but clearly, not of being ‘Merican in Mexico.

Beginning on Monday, I looked up recipes, wrote a grocery list, checked it twice, and did a little shopping. To my delight, I only had to go to four different places to buy the essential components, and with the oven passing inspection on Tuesday night, I thought I was in good standing.

The result is something similar to what being mugged in a tornado that hits a grocery store before landing in a funeral pire must feel like. Wednesday night was controlled panic. I say controlled because panic can only be described by Thursday. But let’s not skip ahead.

Wednesday night after a long day of work, I went to the pastry shop to order the pumpkin pie, and then I returned to my belovéd grocery store to pick up the 14.5 pound bird. I go home. Preparations begin. Did I mention that I planned to make stuffing from scratch? That was a brilliant idea.

My kitchen is not the place for such grandiose dreams. It is a small Mexican kitchen shared by nine people. Food is stuffed into every nook and cranny, you can’t open a draw without finding garlic, fruits, or pasta. But I forged on. “I am going to celebrate Thanksgiving, damn it!”

I left work early on Thursday with the anticipation of a full day of cooking. One of roommates, Isabel, was not feeling well and decided to stay home from work. How perfect! I have a sue chef! Only she thought it better to remain in bed. At 2:45 pm I started making the stuffing, pealing carrots, garlic, and potatoes, prepping green beans, and corn. I zipped around the kitchen stirring, chopping, adding, dicing, sautéing, and baking.

Cooking such a large bird in a 60 year old oven could be a little dicey, especially since the temperature knob is missing. But it all worked out very well. After six hours straight of slaving over a hot stove, dinner was ready. For those curious, here is the menu:

-Steamed Carrots with a Orange zest and apple juice sauce
-Corn off the cob
-A baked greens beans and onions dish covered with a creamy mushroom and cheese sauce topped of with toasted crackers
-mashed potatoes with roasted garlic and parsley
-Stuffing made from scratch with fresh thyme, rosemary, onions, mushrooms, parsley, etc
-cranberry sauce
-homemade gravy
-a 14.5 pound Turkey roasted for 4 hours
-a specially ordered pumpkin pie
-pecan pie
-vanilla ice cream

In closing, Thanksgiving dinner served 13 people, cost a total of $85, and was the best I could have hoped for in Mexico. Although I missed my family terribly, my new home was very welcoming and supportive. Paco, Ismael, and Ricardo (grandson of la duena, Sra. Franco) all took doggy bags, and my house will be eating the leftovers for weeks to come. Happy Happy Thanksgiving to you all!