Not for Nothing November - Part 24

I've mentioned this before but I'll remind you again as it has to do with this story. I was born and raised in Connecticut and after a slight 3 year detour in Florida, I have lived in Georgia for the past 18 years. My family train was firmly parked in Dysfunction Junction yet I have very distinct traditional memories of Thanksgiving. We always had our odd assortment of relatives (step and otherwise) over to the house for a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. My mom and I would have an official ceremony to name the turkey every year before we stuck it in the oven. I remember such names as Penelope, Frankenfurter and Zsa Zsa. Real Norman Rockwell type shit.

Now I love my in-laws and consider them to be more a family to me than my own. However, we don't see eye to eye on the Thanksgiving process. More often than not, they don't serve turkey.

No turkey on Thanksgiving? That's by God un-American. They also have random side dishes that I certainly did not grow up with. The oddest of the odd is pear salad. I apologize in advance if this is something you eat but that shiz is nasty, yo. This culinary delight consists of half of a canned pear filled with mayonnaise and topped with shredded cheese and a cherry. What the frikkity frak felch? It's like someone tripped in the kitchen and said, "What the hell...we'll just go with it."



I couldn't bear the thought of a turkey-less Thanksgiving this year, so I made my own for the three of us. Sure, we'll be eating the bird for the next 5 weeks, but that's okay. It made me happy to hold on to one of the few good memories I have of my childhood.


It is my pleasure to introduce the Turkey of the Peach Family 2009 - Bessie Higgenbottom.

Enjoy your day, people.