Flying Turkey Parts - Thanksgiving Hawaiian Style

by Wendee Mason 

Each time this year I reflect back on what I should be grateful for. That's what Thanksgiving is all about. Giving thanks. So this year, instead of my cursory prayer at Thanksgiving feast, I'm going to get serious in the grateful department and commit it to writing. I'm grateful for my loving husband. Joe's the best. He didn't yell at me when I gained five pounds (and occasionally ten), and he caught me nibbling at the leftover Halloween candy. He supported me financially when I was out of work (and got used to not working.) I'm grateful he's easy-going and seldom complains when I have my PMS fits, which lately seems to be three weeks of every month. I'm grateful he takes dance lessons with me instead of watching Monday night football. I'm grateful he cooks half the time, and does the dishes the other half. I'm grateful he doesn't make me see violent movies and is willing to go to them alone. I'm especially grateful when he comes home safely from surfing and wind sailing without a shark bite in his board. 

I celebrate everyday I live in Kailua, Hawaii. The 21st of November will mark our first year in Hawaii. San Diego is great, but Kailua is the best. The adjustment period was rough. The flying cockroaches, billions of ants, and paying $20.00 for a bag of food at the grocery store were shocking in the beginning. Now I'm grateful the roaches aren't bigger, the ants aren't smaller, and food is available this far away from land. Thank goodness for my nice, friendly neighbors. They provide us with mangos, lemons, bananas and those huge grapefruits I still don't know the name of. We'd be fruitless and friendless without them. 

Yesterday I was especially grateful for Penny at Liberty House Salon. After I talked Joe into "highlighting" my hair (to save fifty dollars), I had him bleach too much hair and I left it on too long. In twenty minutes, I turned into a real live "tiger head," blonde and brown streaks in all the wrong places. I looked like a Halloween headdress. I just needed the tail, long fingernails and whiskers. Refusing to let anyone see what I did to myself, I put a bag over my head and drove to the beauty salon. After they got a good laugh, they cut off the majority of my already short hair and colored the rest back to its natural state. Thank goodness for Lady Clairol #33 and Penny. It cost $57.00. But I'm still grateful. I live in a concrete block house. When I moved here, I wasn't so grateful for its lack of beauty and elegance. During the hurricane, I became grateful in a hurry. I was even praising the attributes of a flat roof. 

Last month, I was also grateful for our pumpkin-colored carpet that matches none of our furnishings. It was a hit at the Halloween costume party. (I was a tiger.) I'm thankful for my family. They live in California. A funny thing happened when I moved here. Because of the cost of a phone call to the mainland, I learned the art of writing letters. I wrote to members of my family I never wrote to before. They responded. I wrote back and now we get along. Why didn't I do this twenty years ago? Our past hurts, misunderstandings, and judgments have been replaced by communication, laughter, sharing, and loving. 

Writing to my mother was the hardest. I found I would edit my words so carefully, only the most mundane, insignificant, boring, and non-controversial material would surface. I discovered a secret. I would pretend I was writing to my best friend. Seven typewritten pages later, I was laughing at my own humor. Then, before printing it on the laser printer, I'd erase "Danette" and replace it with "Mom". Worked like a charm. Mom, surprised at my new attitude of sharing, responded with equal wit and humor. 

Now I'm in shock. Is this MY mother? Maybe she was writing to HER best friend and at the last minute replaced "Hildegard's" name for mine. I'm grateful for our renewed relationship. Even if I had to trick myself to get it. I'm grateful that Thanksgiving and Christmas aren't in the same month. I like Thanksgiving better. You can tell others how much you love them, but don't have to buy them a gift, or run up the credit cards to prove it. Just feed them lots of turkey, stuffing and a pie or two. 

Thanksgiving in Hawaii takes a bit of getting used to. No cold weather, no fall leaves, no snow. Still, I have the urge to put on the fireplace I don't have, and sit around drinking hot chocolate. It also makes me want to put away all my summer clothes and take my wool sweaters out of mothballs. Unfortunately, I didn't bring my sweaters. 

I really don't miss the mothball smell either. My mother used to use mothballs freely in our winter closet. Never know when I'm going to get attacked by an army of hungry moths. The kids at school wouldn't get fifty feet within my perimeter because of the smell. My mother never understood. I'd take them out of the closet, she'd put a new batch in. I had to air out my clothes outside the night before. I'm grateful someone discovered cedar chips. 

Thanksgiving makes me want to cook. I once cooked a turkey in a microwave during home economics class in college. I was amazed- in less than two hours, the bird was finished. I might try it again this year. It always seemed my mother got up at four o'clock in the morning to put the bird in the oven. Maybe that's why it was occasionally dry. Eight hours in the oven would dry up anyone. The part I'm most uncomfortable about during Thanksgiving is saying grace out loud in front of guests. I never know quite what to say. I want to sound sincere and grateful, but at the last minute, when my name is called to say the dinner prayer, my mind freezes up and I forget what to say. 

I like it best when Joe says grace. He always remembers to add a word about our guests, the family, our nation, the world, the homeless, and all the arch angels that watch over the universe. I can only think of thanking God for the food. Perhaps I'll rehearse before dinner this year in case I'm called. My mother always told me, "it was the man's job to carve the turkey". She used to hand the zip-o-matic electric carving knife to my father and zip, zip, zip, we'd have turkey parts flying all over the room. Many times, he'd cut himself and most of the time I'd have to leave the room because it reminded me of surgery. My husband just uses a sharp knife. It's a lot less noisy, but I do miss the flying turkey parts. 

Cranberry sauce is something I eat only once a year. I like the jello kind that comes in a can. I simply push it out onto a plate, and cut it into slices. This was not what my mother likes. She likes to make cranberry sauce from scratch. She slaves over the stove and boils those berries, grinds them up and adds nuts and other secret ingredients. It is never sweet enough for me. There are too many seeds and cranberry parts I don't recognize. I always need to floss in the middle of dinner. This year, I'm using the stuff out of the can. 

Gravy was also a problem. There's a technique for making good gravy. My mother knows it. I don't know it. For some reason, I always use too much fat. Also, I'm not sure if cornstarch or flour is best. I made a practice batch last week. I used cornstarch. And lots of fat. It looked right when I poured it into the pitcher. When it cooled down and I was ready to pour it on my potatoes, it was a solid mass. Brown jello. It made me gag. 

It's the pie situation that amazes me the most. During any other day of the year, If we baked a pie, we would only bake one. During this holiday, if you only bake one, you're branded as cheap, uncaring, and inconsiderate. To keep the friends and family satisfied, we need an apple, pumpkin and minced meat pie as a minimum. My mother use to make the sugary rolled-up croissant things too, just to make sure we had enough dessert. Don't forget the whipped cream, ice cream and liqueurs! Now, in this day and age of diets, calorie and fat consciousness are the rage. I wonder if the traditional Thanksgiving meal should be altered to fit our lean and mean lifestyle. What would Jenny Craig do? She'd probably say the turkey is fine, but stay away from the dark meat. We'd have to substitute a fatless gravy, eliminate the marshmallow from the sweet potatoes (the best part), and take the butter off the table. What good are rolls and vegetables without butter? Pumpkin pie would be pumpkin sherbet. No thanks. I think it would be better to sacrifice calories before and after Thanksgiving than to change the traditional feast. Of course, we COULD only eat one portion of dinner and dessert instead of three. But that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn't it? 

One thing I don't understand is why we have to eat at two o'clock in the afternoon. Dinner time is at six. Let's be consistent. Eating at two ruins the whole day. No time to sleep in, no time to have fun, just barely enough time to cook. Eating dinner that early also throws off breakfast and lunch time. When do you fit those meals in? Once dinner is over, I'm ready to go to bed and it's only three o'clock. I'm too full to do any activity like swim or run. At least it gives us time to do all those dishes. 

The problem with the Thanksgiving dinner is the clean-up. "I'll clean up!" most husbands offer. "I'll do that after the game." Then the post game, then the news about the game. Then they're tired from all the TV watching. Then it's time to go to bed. Paper plates should be mandatory. It's at this time three dishwashers would come in handy. So would a maid. I never knew what to do with that leftover turkey carcass. I remember one year putting it into a big pot like my mother used to do, cover it with water, throw in celery, carrots, bullion cubes, and let it boil for a day. Then I let it sit on the stove for two days. I guess I never was around when she did the rest. When a pungent smell invaded my apartment, it was evident I missed a step. I threw the whole thing in the trash. It was solid mold. Now I know better. I give the carcass to my neighbor. I let her make the soup and she gives me a container full of delicious turkey soup in return. 

Last year, I picked up a magazine that read, "One Hundred Ways to Prepare Left-Over Turkey." I saved it, and filed it. I better find it fast. My idea of variety has been turkey sandwiches with mustard on wheat, or turkey sandwiches with mayonnaise on rye. With or without cranberry sauce. All in all, it's been a great year. I hope I can remember to count my blessings all year long, not just on Thanksgiving. I'm planning on having a calorie-filled, delicious feast with all the trimmings and three pies. Hopefully all my family and friends will be in a good, loving mood after dinner when I tell them we'll be exchanging love and goodwill this year for Christmas instead of gifts...but they're welcome to come over for dinner.