Thanksgiving

girl cutting apples

Last night, I had the time of my life cooking with two wonderful women.

Living across the country from my family is not always easy. It has been exciting and challenging and difficult, although I would not trade it for anything in the world. I have learned some hard lessons and things about myself: one of those things being the absolute necessity of female friendships.

I have a lot to thank the women in my family for.

They taught me how to bake, the importance of patience, and the value of knowing your own strength. They taught me to trust myself, how to be there for others, and all the best swear words (thanks Margret 😉). Not all the lessons I learned from them were spoken, most often they were from a look or a smile, and I think the majority of them were learned toiling over food. I’ve said before that I love how cooking brings people together and while that is certainly true of eating, it’s true of all the time put into the food as well.

I love the silent camaraderie of working on a project alongside someone. And I love this even more when the project involves food.

It has been a long time since I have had a traditional Thanksgiving feast! Being a few provinces away from my family leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to family holidays. My first year in Ottawa my mom (and aunt, and cousins, much to my surprise) made the journey out to see me! It was a wonderful surprise and memorable weekend with my family. I’ve been lucky enough to be embraced by my beau’s family for the past four Thanksgivings, so all in all I have nothing to complain about. However, I can’t help but miss home this time of year.

This year, my roommate and I are hosting a belated Thanksgiving for our friends, or “Friendsgiving”.

I think the event will be a blast, and I am so excited for the food! It is rare we all get a chance to take a break from our busy schedules to visit and feast. And if it is half as fun as the prep work it will be a guaranteed blast.

I think the fellowship of cooking is heightened when preparing for an event, as a task that might usually be boring can become a work of art. After all, you are no longer just making something for yourself. Regular tasks become festive, and the anticipation is palpable. I am so glad I got to work alongside two friends who have become much more like family. (Real talk though, Hannah uses Tenderflake in her pie crust, so I think my family might just adopt her).

Here I would like to extend my most sincere thank you to two wonderful friends.

I won’t lie, I was very daunted at the thought of co-hosting a Thanksgiving celebration. My Mom, and aunts, and grandma produce the most amazing of Thanksgiving feasts. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would be possible to pull off a feat like this without them. But with the help of you two, I think we did it! Also because Meaghan is my soul sister when it comes to love of all things pumpkin ( PUMPKIN GNOCCHI HERE WE COME!).

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I loved getting flour all over the kitchen, and organizing spray painted gourds on the table. I enjoyed the peeling, and chopping, and rolling, and boiling, and mixing and cleaning that we powered through last night. But most of all, I love you guys. Thank you for reminding me how powerful the quiet bond of cooking is. You reminded me the importance of having women in your life that you can dance around the kitchen and sing Fleetwood Mac with. You make my heart happy, and I am thankful.

 

 

 

 

 

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Each year, the second Monday of October, we celebrate Thanksgiving Day. A counterpart celebration to a Thursday in late November for our neighours South of the 49th parallel. A time for gratitude and family, and to switch to colder weather clothing. Our seasons are more pronounced here in the prairie provinces. Especially Summer and Winter. Some years it feels as though we glaze past Spring and Fall in far too big a hurry. Our days are already noticeably shorter! Beautiful autumnal foliage abounds, brought on by dropping temperatures and a few brief dalliances with snow. Warm toned leaves holding on for dear life as brisk winds sweep over our landscapes.

Yes, it’s sweater season. Add a toque. A scarf. Maybe even wool socks. Boots.

But we don’t mind, us hearty Canucks are happy for anything above -40°C! Our thankfulness and appreciation worn on our shirtsleeves this time of year, as we celebrated our Thanksgiving this last weekend.

This is a time for family, reflection, appreciation and great food.

When we gather for a family meal, it is a feast! Generations of stuffing and gravy making skills have culminated in our kin. We produce fantastic fares for the holidays. Tips and tricks passed on through the lineage, create pleasing experiences for the eye, palate and stomach. While we tend to stick to the tried and true, every once in a while a new recipe joins the fold.

I could go on and on about my pride in family and family gatherings. I love them so dearly. But today I’m stuck on one aspect of the get-together: dessert!

Talk about blessings, I was born into a long line of very gifted women in the kitchen.

Pies are the Thanksgiving dessert of choice in our clan. All sorts of fruit pies, made from scratch, with love. My earliest pie memories; Grandma Nellie made the best apple pies. For many years, Mom took on the endeavour. She claims that she never cared for making pies. But obviously enough to make them great. Her lemon meringue pie cannot be beat!

I believe I was about 12 years old when I learned to bake pies. I quickly garnered it’s much more involved than muffins, breads or cakes; there is an art to it. And for some reason, just like my Mom, to this day, I’ve never baked just one. If I’m committing to bake a pie, a minimum of 6 are created. I laugh to myself, while skimming a magazine or Pinterest, when I encounter a recipe for a single piecrust, I immediately dismiss it. If the first ingredient listed doesn’t ask for 4 or more cups of flour, this recipe is not for me. It simply seems disrespectful to the craft!

I’ve made my fair share of pies over the years.

For family meals, special events, and just because. I take great joy in the process and the end products. As a young girl, Brenna took to these pastries!  A natural, if not a little messy, in the kitchen. After a few years of refining her skills, I think she was  about 14 when she made them the first time for the family Thanksgiving meal. They were amazing! Pies quickly became her specialty. She soon tweaked and reinvented and expanded her repertoire. We gladly sampled her fares.

This year, while Brenna remains clear across the country. Her cousin Kenny stepped up to the task!  True to teenager form, she even experimented with a new found piecrust recipe! Dangerous territory.  The results were tantalizing. Sitting there that evening, slicing through the flaky layers on my way through a gorgeous slice of peach pie. I knew exactly what I was most thankful for. Each beautiful bakers’ rendition of a classic recipe. Pie. Good old fashioned, home made pie, created and eaten with love. Pie. Tradition.

 

 

 

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