Serving Southern Jefferson County in the Great State of Montana

Column: Plenty to eat

Growing up I really despised when someone would say "broken home". Sure my parents divorced when I was five, but I felt that term was just dirty and really not necessary. I probably took it more personal than I should have, but my parents surely were not the first people to ever get a divorce and we all walked away from what happened in one piece, far from broken.

With Thanksgiving just a day away, it makes me think back to a highlight of having my parent's gets divorced and my mom getting remarried. Thanksgiving always meant more food and for a turkey dinner junky like me, it was glorious.

While most people in the world were still waking up and watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade we were already out the door to stop one. We would go over to my step grand parents house for a nice spread. After about two hours of snacking on a variety of finger foods, everyone would start to get ready for the main attraction. My mom would always make this spinach dip that was such a hit, but I to this day have refused to try it. When I was five years old I was fascinated by Popeye and would throw a huge hit in the grocery store when she wouldn't buy me spinach. One day she broke down and bought it for me, than made me eat the entire can like my idol. To this day I can't think of spinach without my gag reflex triggering and ruining my appetite.

As the kids were snacking on the finger foods, the adults would commence with the day drinking. I grew up in Rock Springs, Wyoming, which is very much a bit wild like Butte, but with more drive up liquor stores. Family gatherings would always begin with drinks and this was the norm for just about the entire town. Around 1 p.m. we finally would eat. At about 11 a.m. people would start wondering into the kitchen and the cooks for the day would always curse at them like sailors and tell them that "unless you plan on cooking, get the h**l out of here."

The dinner was always great and I would stuff myself till I could no longer move. I'm old school with my turkey dinner, and this consists of the bird, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, and a roll. I don't want rabbit food or some sort of casserole that probably consisted of about 2,354 cans of condensed soup. Around 2, I would grab a piece of pie and than it was off to my dad's parent's house where the second verse would be the same as the first. His side of the family was a little bit different and there would always be something totally not acceptable for Thanksgiving like lasagna, but I would still eat until the point of explosion. It was my second meal of the day and I powered through it like a champ, often times getting seconds.

Usually around 5 p.m. I would get dropped off back where I started and it would be fun to see who was passed out, who was almost passed out, and who was mad because all the men sitting in the front room had yet to do the dishes. After a few minutes of visiting it was time to head to my mom's side of the family. She had enough sisters that it seemed like about a 10-year rotation of who would host. One time we combined both sides of the family when my mom hosted and it reminded me of a fraternity party with old people. By them time dinner was served around 7 p.m. I was pretty much turned off by the idea of another huge meal, but I could not resist my favorite thing to eat. I would grab a huge plate and dig in. By this point in time I would not go back for seconds, but I would finish it off with a piece of pie.

I always wish after this point we would have gone back to the first stop, it would have been fun to see what had transpired in the next few hours, but if it was anything like Christmas Eve dinner, maybe I'm glad I didn't.

 

Reader Comments(0)

 
 
Rendered 03/18/2024 06:03