Yahoo News Thanksgiving: why Brits should embrace America's finest tradition
This piece was originally titled “In defence of Thanksgiving”. Then I thought, hang on: what on earth am I defending it from?
It is the most democratic of celebrations, non-denominational and multicultural. It features roast turkey and a lot of pies. Really – who is complaining? Is there some sort of movement I am not aware of?
Perhaps there is, for year in, year out, I am asked the same question: “What’s a British girl like you doing hosting an American celebration like this?” As if it’s illegal because I’ve never pledged allegiance to the flag.
Well, I’ll tell you. I grew up in Bangkok, where my father sold tractors for Ford, and where I had an American best friend. One of the joys of the friendship was our shared love of food. Thai food, Texan food, PX army treats, you name it.
The highlight was an invitation at the end of November to eat turkey and pumpkin pie at her family’s Thanksgiving dinner: a joyful celebration of the harvest festival held by the Pilgrim Fathers in 1621. It was like having two Christmases in one year, without the arguments.
Those Thanksgiving meals began my love affair with all things American. The excess, the enthusiasm, the multiple desserts. And I’ve done Thanksgiving ever since. Everywhere. In Thai rainforests for actors, back when I was a film coordinator. In New York, for a friend who was unpacking her new house. In LA, painting the walls gold and writing on them (it seemed a good idea at the time), much to the chagrin of our landlord. In Provence, just for the family. And in London.
Americans pine for Thanksgiving when far from home. So when I moved back here in the Nineties, I started cooking Thanksgiving for marooned US friends who had nowhere to go. (There were no hip American restaurants back then.)
And it stuck. Rob Elliott Smith, a regular guest, who comes to Chiswick via Alabama, tells me: “The best thing about Turkey Day with British hosts is 'the thanks’: the US tradition where you go around the table saying what you are thankful for. It’s great fun to see reserved Brits struggle with the embarrassment involved.”
Limey eye-rolling aside, we all usually come up with something positive. And it’s actually rather nice.
And although the turkey is without doubt the centrepiece – whether it be bourbon-maple glazed or brined to within an inch of its crispy skin – it’s the sides that make the feast.
While 90 per cent of Britain’s Christmas dinners will sport the triumvirate of sprouts, parsnips and roasties, the sheer depth and breadth of Thanksgiving sides is breathtaking.
I have one friend who forgoes the turkey completely, serving sideboards and sideboards of sides. And I am not talking about the ubiquitous marshmallow-studded sweet potato casserole or neon-coloured Jell-O salad we Brits associate with Thanksgiving food. (Although I am quite partial to a bowl of the American food writer MFK Fisher’s Fifties recipe for “Ambrosia” – layers of oranges, coconut, and sugar with sherry. It’s better than it sounds.)
Instead, the modern Thanksgiving table groans with collard greens with chilli, two-potato gratin, fennel and green bean salad, sautéed sprouts and candied walnuts, maple glazed carrot, baby turnips with mustard seeds and bacon, cornbread, succotash...
As for dessert: well, it’s so much more than pumpkin pie. There’s spiced cranberry and apple cobbler, chocolate chess pie, bourbon-pecan pie, coconut fluff cake, Meyer lemon tart – do you wonder why I never serve a starter?
But the thing I really love is Thanksgiving’s inclusivity. Folks always offer to bring something: a pie, bread or a cocktail. And it’s American in the truest sense. It encompasses the patchwork of ethnicity that makes up the country – and our friends.
Vince Jung, a third-generation Chinese-American, hosts a Thanksgiving sporting a full turkey spread, but his grandma always brings traditional dumplings.
Javier Cabral, a first-generation Mexican-American writer, cooks the turkey with a chilli-spice rub. Scandinavian friends in the Midwest always have glögg (their version of mulled wine) and start with gravlax.
Thanksgiving meals today are a nod to heritage and to the future. And this is where it comes full circle. According to family apocrypha, my husband’s family “lent” the Mayflower (at some expense) to the pilgrims all those years ago. So maybe it’s apt that we have our own very British Thanksgiving.
My nod to Plunkett-Hogge tradition is a well-made martini. After all, as the saying goes, the martini is to America what vodka is to Russia. But mine is made with London gin.
