Thanksgiving Magic

This is how ninja Audrey feels about not being festive

This week has been nothing but a flurry of Thanksgiving-ness.  John and I decided a while ago that we would host two Thanksgiving dinners this year; last year we skipped out on Celebrating the actual day and it was mildly depressing.  (Thank you, social media, for reminding me that everyone else I know is home with loads of family, stuffing their gob, while the children and I lay around our flat, whining and starving because there's no room in our European refrigerator for food other than the thawing turkey.)

So, this year, we decided to err on the side of festiveness--note to self: always the better choice.

The girls modeling their new warm footwear

Needless to say, hosting two Thanksgivings in a European flat with a fridge, freezer and oven about the size of something out of a Barbie Dream House requires ample planning.  In the end, it meant I was able to draw out the holiday excitement much longer than usual.  I started making and freezing potatoes and pie crusts two weeks in advance.  Every day seemed to have some item to check off the "Get ready for Thanksgiving" list.

In the middle of all this, a gas leak was discovered in our building and the gas was shut off for a week while they worked to replace the main line in the Keller.  This meant we were suddenly without heat or a working range and work on the line was scheduled to go through Thanksgiving.  So, things got a little more challenging, but, really I had more of an incentive to be baking constantly so the oven would help heat our chilly home.

Sharing a piece of pumpkin pie; they both love the crust

As always, my favorite part of this particular holiday wasn't the day itself, but Pie Day. This year I had pre-made enough dough for nine double-crust pies, and this ended up making all the difference.  It was so much more fun for the the girls to help make pie when they didn't have to toil through the precise art of making pie dough.  We rolled dough, and nipped off endless pieces to fill our tummies.  We painted with
egg whites and plopped cans of cherries into gorgeous crimped crusts.  Audrey watched me roll out mini pie crust after mini pie crust, exclaiming "Wow!!!" with each one.  We kept a religious watch over whatever pie was currently baking away in the oven, declaring each one's brilliance as it emerged, golden-brown and ready to be devoured.

Bailey "painting" some egg whites

Audrey in her "pie skirt"

This was the first year that I felt I was really sharing Pie Day with my girls--especially Audrey--I felt instead of casually observing the event, they had finally become a part of it.  For anyone who doesn't worship Pie Day the way we do, it'll be hard to understand, but this was an integral part of motherhood for me.  Another piece clicked into place that day and made me more complete.



John had to work (like everyone else in Austria) on Thanksgiving while the girls and I got the house ready for dinner with friends. (and by this, I mean, the girls trashed the house while I made turkey and then bribed them with a movie so I could clean up their mess too).  It was a relatively small group of people we had over that night, but the really important part was that Audrey and Bailey had friends over.  Our next celebration was going to be a decidedly grown-up affair, so letting the girls celebrate with their friends seemed like a very important part of this holiday.  Audrey clung to my leg from the start while Bailey animatedly showed every arriving guest around the apartment. ("Look!  There's a pillow!!!  This is the LIVING ROOM!!!!")  We attempted to make a "kid's table" which flopped pretty quickly and soon everyone was crowded around the table, stuffing their faces.  The kids all soon declared their bellies were all full (ha!) so they could escape the table to go run rampant together.  This time, Audrey joined in and the house was filled with screaming, running children and loud raucous laughter from the adults.

Our whipped cream had to be kid-tested before it was served

It was a hard exhaustion that followed the rush of excitement of celebration with friends; John had had a long day of work and was headed for another the next day.  I had been working all day for two days and had two more ahead of me, but I still woke up early Friday morning, the eternal morning person, and leaped right into more Thanksgiving prep.  More cleaning, washing and pie making meant I didn't get dinner on the table *cough* takeout *cough* until 8pm...which is usually bed time for the girls and I stayed up until 11, finishing pies and making sure everything was set for the morning.

The Beast was as big as my entire 4-burner range

I made two turkeys on Saturday; two turkeys through my tiny oven--one of which was unanimously named "The Beast" by our guests when they arrived.  The morning sped by and soon the doorbell was ringing and the house was filled with happy voices (Bailey, again, faithfully giving tours to anyone who would follow her).  I was joined by my sous chef, Greg, who rescued my atrocious attempt at making gravy, and I was, again, shadowed by Audrey, who refused to break contact with me.  I'm just saying if the kid doesn't know how to carve a turkey by next year, it won't be for lack of witnessing the act.

We had twelve friends over for this second celebration and it became a juggling act to get all the food on one countertop.  It was a feast of feasts.  And most shocking of all was that we fit everyone in our dining room, using every bar stool, desk chair and kiddie chair available.  That was my little miracle for the evening; seeing all of these fantastic people whom I've come to love dearly elbow-to-elbow around my table, plates piled high, pouring wine for each other, spending hours enjoying food and company.

This is why I love hosting.  This is why I love peeling potatoes and baking pies.  Because a little flour and butter and a giant roasted bird are really just the ingredients that lead to evenings of rich fellowship with friends.  From my mind's eye, it's magic--and it's that magic this year that I'm thankful for.  I'm thankful for all the love I feel for the people who shared this holiday with me; individuals that I smooshed together on my plate, like so much Thanksgiving food, and enjoyed all together at once.