November 20, 2012

• Thankscheming Dinner

  Before I begin, I should say that I do love my grandmother dearly (except when she's destroying me at Words with Friends, but that's not directly implicated here). She's very thoughtful and concerned about her family--no matter how weird we are. However, at Thanksgiving, there are a few dishes that she makes that we don't really need (along with several that are CRUCIAL, like cornbread dressing). The offenders are jello "salad" and sweet potatoes.

  At this point, the jello salad is too foregone. To the best of my understanding (I haven't eaten it in years!), it's a combination of cool whip and squished jello...maybe with some other stuff? fruit maybe? I seem to recall it being garnished with orange slices one year. I do enjoy seeing this on the Thanksgiving spread...even if it's only a source of quiet, knowing chuckles within the family.

  The sweet potatoes, on the other hand, present are a more-interesting subject. The typical sweet potato preparation is out-of-the-can sweet potatoes, placed in a casserole dish with some butter and tiny marshmallows on top. It's pretty basic as far as sweet potatoes. It also seems to fail to live up to Thanksgiving standards. What makes it interesting is that today, during toilet time, I had a thought: what if the sweet potatoes could be transformed before turkey time? What if there were a way to make the sweet potatoes into something befitting a Thanksgiving feast?

  Confession time: this Thursday, I'm seriously thinking about commandeering the sweet potatoes and fixing them before Granny becomes the wiser. I really yam. (Get it?)

  Here's the plan: when Granny arrives, doubtlessly with a trunk full of food, I sneakily portend to help her bring in the food. I quietly locate the sweet potato dish and dart off with it. Then, my brothers actually help her bring in the rest of the food so she doesn't notice I'm gone. Then...I'll get cooking. The plan is to effect a souffle from the sorry excuse for a Thanksgiving side dish.

  Step 1: remove the marshmallows. Marshmallows are properly served with s'mores, bond fires, and feelings of sadness or inadequacies. Unless the turkey fry goes wrong, all these should be far removed from the Thanksgiving meal.

  Step 2: mash the sweet potatoes. In the same bowl/dish that she brought, I'll take to the sweet potato hunks with a steadfast, destructive diligence. There will be cream and egg yolks on standby. Only once they have reached the right consistency (right on the verge of runny), can I proceed to the next step.

  Step 3: add the pre-prepared meringue mixture. The meringue is what provides the "lift" for the souffle. I can have the egg whites beaten with a little bit of salt, and then add either pumpkin pie spice or sage and bacon. This is the tricky part...if the meringue sits out too long it will deflate--and once you add a protein source, you can't whip it back up. Timing is key.

  Step 4: pop into the oven. It needs to bake at about 400 for twenty-five minutes or so. Hopefully, at this point everything else is out of the oven. (We fry or smoke turkeys, so no problem on the winged foul front.)

  Step 5 (if necessary): create a diversion. If your family goes at Thanksgiving like mine, all the dishes get grouped according to their type: turkey and ham go together; all the vegetables go together, then salads, and other delectables, and desserts. So, it will be easy to see if there is a dish missing from the grub clusters. The diversion will need to be something that makes it look like there's been a last-minute change to the self-service traffic pattern. This won't be difficult because my family frequently does it wrong (cutlery, napkins, and drinks go at the end of the line so your hands aren't encumbered in the food-heaping process...why does no one understand this?!). In the confusion, a misplaced casserole is believable.

  Step 6: remove from oven immediately before the meal starts. Hopefully, the souffle will take and the puff will impress everyone. Thus, Thanksgiving will be saved.

  Step 7: Make up some B.S. excuse about why it happened when she figures it out. Grannies have a tendency to be sensitive. Plus, there's some reason she thinks she must make it (like my uncle really like sweet potatoes this way, which I'm not sure is even true). TOUGH BEANS! Like the butterball we're about to consume: that ain't gonna fly. I have several possibilities: "I thought it would be fun to try something new this year;" "This is something my sister, who can't be with us, would have liked to have eaten--it's in her honor." But, my favorite is:

  "This is symbolic of our family traditions: each generation contributes its own touch to what we do. This contributes to the richness and dynamism of our ever-growing family. Thank you, Granny, for everything you do for us, and for helping us become the people we are. I'm thankful for you." Secretly, I just want sweet potato souffle for Thanksgiving...

  What do you think? Is this appropriate? Regardless of whether it's proper, do you think I can pull it off? Do you have any tips/tricks from your own Thanksgiving subterfuge (or should I say "turkey furtivities"? No, you're right, I shouldn't...)

  • 12:48 am
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