Posted on 11/18/2012 8:28:40 AM PST by carlo3b
Remembering Thanksgiving Day The Mayflower 1620- 2002
The voyage of the Mayflower in 1620 from Plymouth England, to Plymouth Rock started as a journey to find peace and justice in a new world. It began as a fervent prayer to give freedom a chance, and remains today as the promise each year for a new beginning. Thanksgiving Day is a celebration of hope, and remembrance.
Today, we bring our families and friends together to share our tables and our hearts, and give thanks for all that we have to be grateful for in our new and glorious country. From this grand experiment and it's courageous settlers, to the greatest nation of the world, we have a lot to be thankful for, indeed.
Remembering Thanksgiving
My earliest memory of Thanksgiving was the fuss of preparation of the wonderful food being prepared in advance of our holiday feast. Being a traditional Italian American, midwestern home, a full cornucopia of cookies of every ethnicity was in abundance. Thanksgiving morning was a special treat with a home filled with the scent of baking bread, and roasted turkey which transformed our tiny cold water flat in "Little Italy" on the lower East side of Chicago into a 3 room palace. Everyone was involved, family and friends, young and old, with 4 generations of our own majestic women.
An unspoken but respected hierarchy prevailed, with the eldest women in control, and a dance like rhythm appeared to take charge of this traditional and noble endeavor. It didn't take long before our small kitchen and dinning room filled, and every flat surface was covered. People scurried into the hallway, where neighbors shuffled pans and pots in and out of their homes to their own kitchens to make room for more, always more so everyone could share in the abundance.
The Preparations
Preparation started days earlier, with the making of the pasta. I recall my great aunt bringing in the clothesline from our back porch, the one that strung across the small yard to the adjacent porch and back. She washed and bleached this cord to string across our living and dining rooms, from sconces to chandelier, and doorjambs to windowsills. It was strung as tight as possible to hold the pounds of lasagna noodle, and spaghetti needed to hang dry, to satisfy the hearty Italian appetites. I recall as if it were yesterday listening to our nightly radio programs with the shadows of stringing pasta on the faded floral wallpaper, lending an eerie overtone to the Green hornet, or Gangbusters.
How could I ever forget opening my eyes in the morning with the sight of hanging pasta overhead, but then, why in the world would I want to forget that magical moment after all, and what it meant to a young boy that a wonderful and glorious holiday was just around the corner?
The Family and Friends
Each family was represented in the choice of menu items. Every wonderful cook in each branch of the family offered to prepare their own special version of the chosen food. This made for a memorable feast indeed, there were at least 4 successful individual restaurant owners in our family. The competition was playful and fun filled, with chunks of bread, ladles, and spoons dipping into everything, testing, tasting, and teasing.
The Cooks
It should not be construed that the food preparation was the exclusive province of our family women, to do so would be to underestimate the culinary contributions of some of the finest cooks in the clan. A few of my uncles, cousins and grandpa were cooks in the Army, Navy, and Marines, as well as in their own restaurants.
My great uncle served as a cook in the Italian army, then captured and recruited to cook in the prisoner-of-war camp, when upon his release, served 2 tours as a cook in the US Marines during The Korean War. However, whatever greatness the men may have achieved in the outside world, the kitchen was ruled by those formidable, yet diminutive, strikingly gorgeous, black clad matriarchs of the family. Great grandmothers from both sides of the lineage, grandmothers, great grandmother-in-laws, and great great aunts. Man I'll tell ya, it was a sight to behold at best, and an Italian culinary rivalry at least. Although sharing an Italian heritage, the 6 uncles married outside the Calabrian niche, creating a scrumptious provincial food fight.
The Kids
Children weren't immune from the holiday chores. Chairs were pulled up to the stove for short perpetual stirrers. The teens were given the sink, for the neverending pots and pans, and preteens were runners for last minute fetches and food deliveries. I was honored almost exclusively with the delivery of food for the church and hospital shut-ins because I had the bike with a giant basket.
Trying to describe my cousins and most of the local kids wasn't hard, the first thing I recall was, hair, lots of black hair, big doe eyes, dozens of beautiful children with wide grins. At least one kid, sometimes more, was forced to bring his or her accordion, and at every holiday gathering some poor child was browbeaten into playing "Lady Of Spain"!
The Holiday Table
Serving 30-40 people, in a one bedroom apartment on the 3rd floor, rear, walkup, was a challenge, but doable. It took the coordination of most of our wonderful neighbors, and the cooperation of all of the residence, which were always invited anyway. Everyone brought pots, pans, dishes, and utensils, at least a chair, and some brought their kitchen tables.
Everyone brought something eatable, most were prearranged as in bread, but some were heirloom dessert recipes, enough for at least a good spoonful, for everyone to get a taste. Older adults, always got a chair at the table, all adults got a seat, and kids sat at the card tables, on the stairs or on a carpet in front of the radio in one of the neighbors homes.
The Prayer
All kids had to be within earshot of the saying of the formal Grace before dinner. Then everyone recited their own prayer in various languages of their native tongue. Our family and friends were of many faiths and nationalities, the overwhelming majority of coarse were Italian. Most remembered a loved one not present, and the names of every absent serviceman and woman were individually read aloud. With all heads bowed, everyone gave thanks for the wonderful gifts of food and health, and each and every person present, gave a special thanks and how grateful they were for being in the United States of America.
The Family
Any good excuse to gather the clan in our family was and still is, paramount. Weddings, holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, births, baptisms and unfortunately funerals are used as good excuses to get together and, you guessed it.... eat. This is usually done at the familial home of eldest member of the family. The Italian family circle is close and tight, and many families still living within their hometown, even today, live within walking distance of one another.
In our family, as in many, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins grow as one family unit. The elders live within the homes of their offspring or siblings. The hierarchy is established by the ability of the surviving parents to have living arrangements central to the greatest number of kids and kin. Love of family is the reason, and love of food is the cement. Thanksgiving is one of the most popular days of the year, and has been since my earliest memory. Even today as I did with my parents in my youth, I talk to each of my 5 children and grandchildren, almost everyday, and have even when we lived thousands of miles away... I am truly blessed.
The Food
Food for an Italian holiday is second to only to the family. Present at every holiday feast were several types of entree, lasagna, ham, veal, and one or more specialty pasta and of course the giant stuffed Turkeys. There were Kosher dishes aplenty for our many Jewish friends. Our next door neighbor kept a Kosher kitchen and always shared their wonderful food with us as we did in return.
Not counted as entrees were homemade sausages, meatballs, and grilled peppers. A strange calzone, one I recall with nuts and octopus was always somewhere on the table as was braciole (Italian beef rolls, and great cannoli desserts were always compliments of our Sicilian side of the family).
Salads and antipasto were a mainstay, with favorites cellentani con Insalata di Peperoni (cellentani with pepper salad), and the ever popular soups, usually a bean, as in minestrone. Breads, rolls, pizza and a mixed variety of biscotti, were always in abundance. Side dishes were a meal in themselves.
A vast array of vegetables prepared as specialty items, like artichoke and bacon frittata rounded out every holiday meal. Even our popular lasagne, the recipe that created a chain of famous restaurants, has broccoli or spinach as a principle ingredient to the recipe. Desserts... oh my, great custards, and pastries, ice creams and cakes such as lemon berry tiramisu or frittelle di zucca (pumpkin fritters)
The Moment of Truth
My grandfather sat at the head of the table, and next to him sat a gallon jug of his homemade Italian red wine. Almost everyone seated for dinner were given a glass of his wine, if only for the many toasts that were posed, to the cooks and a milieu of other celebrations. The moment of truth came when he would call the name of the boys that he felt were to be worthy of manhood, a scholarship know only to him, usually by some unknown merit method.
If you attained that status in his trusted eye, he would invite you to accept a glass of wine and he would toast your new position and with everyone's applause you drank a glass and thanked him.
When my moment came, I had just turned 10, and having worked with him on his paper stand in downtown Chicago for 3 years and to my surprise he felt I was ready! Proudly I swallowed a huge gulp, and felt the heat go down my throat and explode at the core of my stomach and began to rush back up. I forced a smiled and swallowed again and hugged him as tight as I could, until my uncle secretly handed me a chunk of bread, which I bit into and forced down before I let my pa loose, perhaps in the nick of time because he slapped me on the back and everything went back down... I never drank another drop of his wine, but accepted his offer to take a glass, each time he offered it until he passed a year later. How I loved that man.
The Carving At each end of the long tables were placed huge turkeys. The head of the households were given the honor of carving these beautifully prepared, golden trophies. It was a ritual and with surgical skills each bird was sliced and distributed to all in attendance until nothing remained but the bare bones.
At the conclusion of this wonderful occasion, the men stood and with glasses raised toasted the blushing ladies as we sang... in our best voice, and in Italian, a song dedicated to our wonderful women, .. "Mamma"
As bad as I’m feeling this year, I wanted to do this thread, just for old time sake.. As we all get a bit older I am drawn to the past, remembering times long ago, as well as times not so far back..
I have an old ping list, and I know I bother many of you with my prattle, but I don’t do it on purpose, I can’t control myself.. LOL
Many of us remember many on my ping list that are no longer with us, But I remember you all, and I think about all of them at times like these..
GOD BLESS TO EVERYONE, HERE AND NOW, AND THOSE LOOKING FROM BEYOND.. Kiss, and tears.. Carlo
I’m so delighted to have met you and I thank The Creator for this opportunity! Your stories mean a lot to some of us (I bet “a lot of us”!) so please don’t stop posting. You are a great gift to us!
I have decided that I'm going to do the opposite of what The Won's campaign was all about. Instead of doing that Marxist "Forward" thing, my theme will be "Backward" because I will be living in the past. You know, back when God was still evident in society and our lives were much fuller because of that.
My uncle was unhappy in high school and he got my grandmother to sign him into the Navy when he was 17 to see the world. He made it through Basic just in time to be stationed at Pearl Harbor in Dec. 1941. He was assigned to a Destroyer, The Detroit. On Dec. 7, early on a Sunday morning, the bombs started. All hands on deck!
Uncle Bob said that a lot of the crew was ashore, partying, but he was too green and new to be allowed shore leave. When the alarm was sounded, the crew scrambled to their battle stations; and The Detroit (being a smaller and more nimble vessel) got underway and was first to make it out of the Harbor, with all the other ships following that were able. The men fired at the Japanese planes from the deck with their rifles. The Detroit was credited for saving what remained of the Fleet December 7, 1941.
My mother and I stopped over in Hawaii on a trip to China with Uncle Bob in 1983, and we all took the cruise out to the Arizona Memorial. The guide told that story about the Detroit to all the tourists. No one in the family had ever heard it before because Bob never talked about the War after he got home in 1945. We spun around to look at him, and he was weeping, much to our surprise. Bob was big and brawny and a tough guy — a successful builder and architect — but he was remembering his lost youth in those few moments. He had changed from a 17 year old kid to a man with the opening salvos of WWII. One thing he learned is to read the fine print in contracts! His 4 year stint in the Navy didn’t count if the nation was at war. I think he served almost 5 years before he came home to those Brussels Sprouts.
But, we were glad to have him home and pleased to make Brussels Sprouts for every Holiday dinner, a custom we all continue, even though he passed on about 6 years ago.
I’ll be disappointed if The Fox and Hounds does not offer at least one dish of Brussels Sprouts tomorrow.
Happy Thanksgiving
I just corrected your ping problem.. So Sorry.. :(
I love your attitude about Backward.. WE need to go back to a kinder better place.. fir shir.. LOL
It seems that the real hero’s never talk about it.. Your Uncle was not unique in holding it in, until he couldn’t hide it anymore..
Thank heavens he got back there to let it go.. I’m sure, from personal experience, that it has to come out for someone to feel really free..
Thank you sweetheart, I’ll be here until the lights go out, or Jim dumps me! HUGGGGG
Carlo, you are a treasure and I love to read your stories. Keep them coming! I hope you and your family have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Take care and God Bless.
Crazed, nonsensical humor attempts sometimes keep the tears at bay, but not always. The valid memories of the best humans we ever met on the computer keep crowding back in...
Happy exclusive American holiday of Thanksgiving to God for another trip around the sun above ground my FRiend!!!
No, you don’t. It’s good to see an old friend again, and the sweet message is very welcomed. There are not too many of us who are not feeling down, bad, depressed, angry, etc., and a friendly message is well received.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, Carlo and all here.
Hannity’s sub (Rose something) began her show this afternoon telling about when King David lost his and Bathsheba’s son. He cried, tore his garments, fasted, begged God to save his son. After the son died, the servants were afraid to tell King David, afraid of what he would do. Instead, he surprised them by getting up, straightening what was left of his clothing and went to eat and run the kingdom. When his servants questioned him about his change in attitude, he said, “I have done all I could do to save my son. Now, that he is dead, would fasting bring the baby back?” (2 Samuel 12:22-23 We did all we could for this election. Now, it’s time to go on living and doing what we should. This really struck me, and I should follow King David’s example.
King David had it right, and so do you my dear FRiend.. This isn't time to quit, it's time to live.. We've earned it, unlike the whiners, and the folks that are looking for scapegoats to explain the drumming we took..
To drag this out is nonproductive, and foolhardy.. This is time for planning and shoring up our flanks.. There will be time enough to fight on our own terms.. Rest up now for the battles to come..
HAPPY THANKSGIVING my Friends.. Carlo
We are still here Waspman, indeed! Yesterday is clearly in my rear view mirror, but the memories linger on.. Who in their right mind would want to forget.. We won’t my dear FRiend.. We will go forward remembering the good ole days.. LOL
And a Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours my dear friend.. My family is my strength, and my grandkids are the future.. I will feed them the love that they need now, to grow them strong for the world that they will face.. :)
Have a great day tomorrow Lady.. Enjoy the time with family and friends, and remember the leftovers.. I’ll be back with more recipes for those as well.. LOL
I never post on your threads, but I always enjoy reading them.
God bless you and your family.
How nice of you to tell me that my FRiend.. I really get more than I give on these threads.. My family are so tired of listening to me, and they tell me so.. Hahahaha
I guess you all are stuck with me.. HA!
My mail was showing signs of being opened. What a wonderful country we live in where we can actually criticize the government somewhat without getting shot!
Jim Rob probably deterred some Tim Mcveighs by providing a means to vent!
My Mom is 93 and she is going with the wife and me to our little family, annual turkey bake at one of my sister's place.
Cheer up, amigo!
Our kids arrived yesterday and All Is Well. Week before last we celebrated with our kids from Brazil, now grown exchange students who came to visit from Sao Paulo.
For our grand son, last year’s Star Wars are replaced with Ninjasasuma (I think)
Your posts are always entertaining and informative- I love them and am also quite nostalgic this morning- just found myself asking my mom (who died nine years ago) how she tucked the wings underneath so they wouldn’t get too brown- though sometimes she used cooking nails.
What I remember this morning is the peace on Thanksgiving in our house and our town. The only sounds were chit-chat and kitchen noises. No video games, no cell phones, no computers.
And most definitely no Black Friday induced madness!
Sigh..
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