A Man's First Thanksgiving
November 10, 2016
Syracuse, NY
A Man’s First Thanksgiving
As a chef, the autumn and winter holidays are my favorites. There are a few reasons for this; first, people don’t tend to go out to eat, they have parties and eat with friends and family, so I usually have those days off to be with my family, and second, the holidays are an opportunity to make whatever food tickles your fancy. Rules about calories, fat, sugar, richness, scale and presentation are put on hold, and creative and novel dishes rule the feast as much as time honored classics. The holidays are a blank check for the palette.
There is one thing, however, that I don’t love about the holidays, and that is driving. The days before and after Thanksgiving and Christmas are the busiest travel days of the winter months, and even if you don’t travel long distance for the holidays, there is a good chance you will still have to spend a long time in the car. One Christmas Eve I was obligated visit over a dozen different parties. Mom, Dad, Siblings, best friends, their families, work friends, church friends... all had separate parties, and I drove over 200 miles that day without leaving town, and I lived in a small town, very small. This effort wiped me out; I didn’t get to spend more than 30 minutes at any party, I was obligated to eat an entire plate of food at each one, and even though these were all the people I was closest too, I felt like an outsider as I hopped from party to party. Worst of all, I didn’t have time to prepare any dishes myself.
Cooking for others can be deeply emotional and gratifying, especially during the holidays. So the first time that I had a big house of my own on Thanksgiving, I declared to all my loved ones, we would host them all this year. Young and old, relations and friends, bring your relatives, babies and neighbors, we would host a Thanksgiving for everyone that didn’t want to drive all over.
On the Monday of that week six of us, filled four shopping carts getting all the supplies together for this feast of feasts. Our local grocery store offered a free 15# turkey with a purchase of $100 or more; we went home with six. For 48 hours we prepped, baked, chopped, fried and bruleed enough food for a small army. By noon on Thanksgiving when our guests began to arrive we had performed a small miracle of creation. Every surface, counter, cupboard, buffet or other flat surface had a dish of food on it. Thank god it was cold and we were able to store the desserts on the back porch.
In addition to the six turkeys, we had 30 other entrees ranging from elk tenderloin to sesame green beans. We mashed potatoes of every variety, baked six different types of pumpkin pies, made venison demi-glace, pates, souffles, a tofurky that no one ate and 40 servings of creme brulee. Hercules had nothing on us; Martha Stewart would have accused us of going too far.
Our guests filled the house with a buzz of conversation as they strolled through the house picking and sampling all the delightful treats that we offered up. Our youngest guest had been born just three weeks previous, and politely declined our wares in favor of his mother, but everyone else ate with gusto. Our oldest guest was over 90, and later that night after she had won all of our money at poker and retired to her own home, we found out from her granddaughter that she had hustling fools like us since the 1930’s. The final count of all of our guests for the day was over 75 friends, family and new acquaintances. I will remember that day till my last breath.
That whole week was amazing, I felt like a different person inside. For the first time I had hosted a major family holiday, I felt grown up, capable, and mature. I had done many adult things prior to that week, but that was the first time that I felt like an adult. I had taken on the responsibility of providing a great holiday for all of the people that I cared most about, using all of my skills and resources. We paid for everything ourselves (my housemates contributed to every aspect of the party), and we were inclusive and welcoming to everyone that came to our home. By the end of the night we felt that our family had increased in size dramatically.
That is the power of food, it can bring people together and create ties that last a lifetime. Food can help maintain or even heal a community. For me, food helped me learn how to be a man, to be part of a family and a welcoming and gracious host. Food also helped me remember to be like a child, creative and energetic, and that giving and providing for others is one of the greatest acts we perform. Food has made me the man that I am today, and continues to keep me centered on what is important in my life.
Nathan Miller
