It's Not About the Food.

Thanks to likes of Norman Rockwell and Martha Stewart among many other leading, defining forces in Americana, everyone has an image in their head of what the perfect Thanksgiving should look like. There are family recipes that must be prepared just so. There are certain dishes that have to be on the table…or it’s just not right.

This is our first Thanksgiving on American soil, ever, as a family (because when we moved over there, we gained an extra kid). This is the first Thanksgiving in our little family history, where my kids don’t have to go to school. This is the first Thanksgiving where my kids got to talk about the holiday in school -- about what it means, about what it is. Today is our first Thanksgiving.

When we celebrated Thanksgiving in Belgium, we pieced together our dinner with the traditional favorites, as best we could. Just go back to an entry from last year, where I blogged about how we were on our very own episode of Amazing Race, and the road block challenge was: Go buy a turkey. If I remember correctly, our bird last year came in pieces because we found a turkey breast at one grocery store, and the legs at another. It certainly was easier to cook it. And forget all of the extra fancy side dishes. We were lucky to get cranberries from a friend who had access to the American army base (thanks, always and forever, Dan). Add in mashed potatoes and gravy and we called it good. 

All of that taught me, it’s not about the food. So today. So what if someone forgot the marshmallows that go on top of the sweet potatoes. It will still taste good. And who cares if Aunt Betty decided not to bring THE Jello salad this year and instead opted for a suspect Kale dish instead. It’s not about the food.

As we pack up to go to my brother’s house, I know my mashed potatoes are too lumpy. And after six years of having to make my own pumpkin or pecan pies from scratch (with imported canned pumpkin and/or hard-to-find brown sugar) this year, I blissfully went online and pre-orded my pumpkin pie for pick-up yesterday at 10am. The uniform swirls of whip cream on top look glorious. I can’t even eat because it’s not gluten-free, but I don’t care. This year, our family gets us at Thanksgiving (lumpy mashed potatoes and all). This year, my kids get to see their cousins and grandparents for Thanksgiving.

For us, today, it’s not about the food.