Turkey for Thanksgiving
You know, I’ve never properly had a Thanksgiving turkey dinner. Sure, there have been close calls such as Pietro’s noble attempt at student cooking in ’05, which will be forever known as the “pureed potatoes incident”.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you.
Thanksgiving dinner in my childhood home was always a culinary adventure, and I would inevitable show up to school on Tuesday morning with envy-inspiring stories of “duck a l’orange” or “braised lamb”, owing to the fact that a) we were a family of four, and cooking a whole turkey would mean eating leftover turkey for weeks and b) my dad’s a Swiss chef, and “turkey and gravy with all the fixins” is just not in his repertoire.
I merely bring it up as a moderately clever segue into the best Turkey experience ever. In fact, even the Thanksgiving part is merely incidental. What I’m really trying to say here is that the best Thanksgiving turkey ever was actually honeymoon in Turkey.
Dinner on said occasion was chicken, stuffed peppers, tuna casserole, salad, and a variety of melons for desert, prepared by the crew of our Turkish Mediterranean cruise, enjoyed in the company of two other Canadian couples, and one Turkish economist. Over delicious Effes beers, we gave thanks to being on a sunny boat cruise instead of in the rainy fall of Canada, then we probably talked politics for a few hours before falling asleep to the gentle rocking of the boat on the calmest, clearest water in the world.
I had visited Turkey before, at the tail-end of my “Finding Myself European Tour 2001”. At 5 am this morning, when jet-lag woke me up, I re-read my old travel-journal entries from my time in Turkey. It’s incredible how much a country can change in seven years.
But equally incredible is how much a person can change. And for that, for finding my wife, and finding new strengths in myself through her, I am thankful.
D.