Some of my earliest holiday memories are of spending Thanksgiving in Chicago at my grandmother Beauty’s home. I remember helping baste the turkey with fresh orange juice, herbs and garlic, and sitting on my grandmother’s shiny Formica countertop to mash the fresh pumpkin for the pies. My grandmother’s house always felt warm from the food in the oven and time spent sitting on her lap while the grown-ups sipped their coffee after dinner.
But after we moved to Manhattan when I was 9, Thanksgiving took place at a restaurant with big crowds and an all-you-can-eat buffet. As soon as the hostess would seat us, everyone would rush for the food — as if the restaurant might run out. Nobody talked about how it was prepared or how it smelled. I would watch my overweight dad dash for seconds and thirds of mashed potatoes and sausage stuffing without even taking a breath. When he was done, he always said the same thing: “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.” When he was on the Atkins diet, which allowed unlimited amounts of protein, he ate even more. My little sister, April, and I had a hard time choosing what we wanted to eat because we were always getting elbowed and bumped in our attempts to squeeze into the food line.
My parents never sat for long at the holiday table, or had a conversation, or talked about what they were thankful for, and I was always left feeling disappointed. I remember listening to the conversation at nearby tables to hear what other families talked about at Thanksgiving. These were the families that went up only once for food and seemed to genuinely enjoy one another’s company and their meal.
Finally, after three long years of pleading, the phone call came: my grandmother was going to brave the trip from Chicago for Thanksgiving. She and Papa were going to take the train. Beauty had never left Chicago and was scared to take a plane, but she knew how terribly I missed her and how important it was to me to have a proper Thanksgiving meal.
Before my grandparents arrived, my sister and I did our best to help clean our house, which was usually messy and a little chaotic. Beauty liked everything in place and tidy, and I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for her visit.
When Beauty and Papa arrived the night before Thanksgiving, my mother took us all in a cab to Columbus Avenue, where New Yorkers would watch all the balloons being blown up the night before the Macy’s parade. Beauty was in heaven as we showed her Central Park, The Museum of Natural History and Isabella’s, a restaurant on Columbus Avenue, where we stopped for hot chocolate as we watched the Kermit the Frog float come to life through the window.
As I was telling Beauty about all my favorite sights in Manhattan, I realized how much I actually loved my new hometown and how independent I had become. I told my grandmother about all the neighborhoods in New York City that I would travel to by myself to buy ingredients for the recipes she sent me. I even learned about new ingredients through my travels around town and my dad’s rotating diets. I could not wait to show her some of my new favorites.
After returning home, we found my grandfather and dad arguing about where our Thanksgiving dinner would be held. My dad wanted to go to our usual restaurant, where there were unlimited amounts of appetizers and desserts, and each table got its own 14-pound turkey. But my grandparents had never had Thanksgiving in a restaurant and, after traveling for 17 hours, they didn’t want to start. My father backed down, but he was disappointed: Thanksgiving was the one holiday he indulged without guilt. My grandfather assured my dad that in 40 years of marriage, he never left the table hungry.
Beauty and I started working on our menu. We had less than 24 hours to prepare our perfect holiday meal. I showed her the recipes I had been saving over the years from popular gourmet and health magazines. There was a creamy butternut squash soup made without heavy cream, and roasted brussels sprouts with a pomegranate reduction. We were salivating as we prepared our shopping list.
As my grandmother and I worked all day, side by side, to create our first homemade Thanksgiving feast in our tiny Manhattan kitchen, my sister watched the parade on television and ran into the kitchen every couple of minutes for tastes. My dad went on multiple grocery store runs to make sure there were no ingredients we were forgetting; and my mother and grandfather stayed clear of the kitchen and argued about things like why my mother did not have a clean coffee pot or why my grandfather wanted dishes and real silverware rather than paper plates.
When dinner was finally ready, Beauty and I set everything out on a metal folding table in our living room. As my dad happily filled his plate with the sweet potato hummus, roasted veggies and turkey, he noticed how beautiful everything looked. He did not even seem to notice the lack of buttered mashed potatoes or sausage stuffing.
For the grand finale, I carefully brought out my homemade pumpkin pie with a graham cracker crust. Instead of sweetening it with sugar, I used ripe bananas, a touch of maple syrup and a hint of cinnamon. As I watched my dad dig into his piece of pie, I smiled as he seemed to savor every bite. I knew exactly what I was thankful for this year.
Hummus à la Sweet Potato: If you are looking for a light, healthy appetizer to get your guests in the holiday spirit, try this sweet potato hummus that is bursting with flavor, spice and color. This protein-filled appetizer has helped my dad control his appetite. He named it “the caviar of hummus,” savoring every bite. Serve it with warm pita, sliced red peppers, cucumbers or celery sticks.
Creamy Cashew Butternut Squash Soup: Growing up, I spent a lot of time in vegetarian restaurants even though I was not vegetarian, just on a quest to discover delicious, healthy foods that would help my dad lose weight and feel good. I was already a fan of butternut squash soup when I was introduced to using cashews as a substitute for cream. This soup is loaded with flavor, fiber and protein. One of my favorite things to do is to ask my guests to figure out the mystery ingredient; nobody ever guesses that I have swapped out the heavy cream for the healthy, raw cashews. This soup is perfect for your vegetarian and vegan guests.
Roasted Brussels Sprouts With a Pomegranate Reduction: If you thought you did not like brussels sprouts, this recipe will definitely change your mind. The first time my grandmother served roasted brussels sprouts to me, I could not stop eating them. When brussels sprouts are roasted, they become crispy on the outside and sweet and delicate on the inside. The addition of a warm pomegranate glaze, and the cool, sweet pomegranate seeds, makes these brussels sprouts a festive delight.
Banana-Infused Pumpkin Pie: I love taking decadent treats and turning them into healthy nutritional powerhouses that allow you to enjoy your dessert without guilt. Here is my favorite dessert: pumpkin pie. Over the years, I have experimented with many different recipes, and this maple-sweetened, banana-infused version with a graham cracker coconut crust, which takes minutes to prepare, is always a crowd pleaser.
Well: A Fat Dad Thanksgiving
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Well: A Fat Dad Thanksgiving
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Well: A Fat Dad Thanksgiving
