Dirty Dishes

Travel, family, cooking, parades, turkey, deserts, naps, football. The one day a year we gather to be thankful or show gratitude to family and friends. Is this just a good excuse to get out of work, eat a bunch of food and get ready for an extended weekend of shopping?

After attending your choice of religious service (you do attend?) and giving thanks to mysterious omnibus head of heaven and earth, pack the car with the kiddies and head to the agreed upon gathering spot where the festivities have already begun.

Note: Don’t forget to put a can of beans in the offering plate was passed around for tithing. The food bank will thank you.

Every family have their own traditions and process. I can just relate on my family as an example.

As soon as the cereal bowls are put away, the cooking begins. The kitchen was my mother’s office and an apron was her uniform. While my grandmother taught me how to break snaps and separate into paper bags, the preparation of the Thanksgiving meal was left to the ladies. Unlike the normal dinners with the leftover Downtown Club plates, the good China and silver were brought out to indicate some prestige to visitors. There was never any alcohol with the meal.

My mother was not a good cook. With all the appliances and utensils, the meat would be burnt, the potatoes dry, the bean bland and the deserts avoidable. Brought up in a time when the housewife was to rule the kitchen, she played the part but was not interested. Even toward the end, she would sit in the kitchen in apron watching a television, with a coffee urn and an ashtray.

In my family, we had the privilege to have the Thanksgiving meal prepared by the club. Turkey, Virginia Ham and Roast Beef were pre-sliced and wrapped in aluminum foil easy to reheat and serve on a silver platter. Creamy mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, stuffing and pecan pie came wrapped and ready to put in one of our burnt pans to keep warm until placed between the silver candelabras in silver bowls and serving platters. There were even gherkin pickles.

The appetizer was shrimp cocktail (after the prayer for the meal presented by my father at the head of the table). My father would have raw oysters. The rest of the family thought they were gross without knowing they were fueling future amorous behavior. Sometimes the four of us would hold hands around the small table during the prayer, but the two boys were ready to split as soon as possible. Then, we’d all go back to our rooms (my mom to the kitchen and a pile of dirty dishes, my dad to a nap in front of a football game, and my brother and I would do whatever we could to avoid any other interaction with the family.

In larger houses, with more family and longer tables, another family would have similar rituals. The ladies (moms and aunties and grandmothers) would attend to the kitchen duties while the gentlemen retired to the leisure room to discuss news and business trends while smoking pipes or cigars and drinking brandy awaiting the call to the table for the prepared feast. There was no television, but the kids could entertain with charades or piano tunes.

Seating at a long table were assigned. We stood until everyone was there to be seated. This was where we exhibited our etiquette manners. At the head of the table was my uncle, the preacher. He’d stand and praises the thankfulness for this meal while we all bowed our heads in silent.

Then, the process of dissecting the bird (who had not been pardoned). My uncle would always ask my father if he would like to do the duty and my father would always cowling recline. Plates would be passed around the table to be served with the ingredients to indigestion. No one ate until all the plates had finished their rotation. A lightweight conversation was had as we all gorged ourselves on the abundance until my uncle stood and asked, “What are you thankful for?”. No one could leave the table until the question was answered by each and every participant to the holiday event. A short sermon finished the meal and before we bolted in all directions, we were asked to take our plates into the kitchen. Somehow in the confusion, the ladies had beat us to the kitchen to direct the placement of the piles of dirty dishes with the pots and pans. Everyone volunteered meekly to assist with the clean-up but were always shoed out of the way while the kitchen was returned to its proper pristine proportions with plenty of take-home leftovers wrapped as going away remembrance presents and to get rid of the trash. The gentlemen would retire to the parlor to read the newspaper or have a sip of sherry until the snoring started signaling the party was over.

As the yoots got older and could move up to the adult’s table, alcohol appeared. The volume and demeanor would change. One auntie would bring up how the food was not prepared right while shoveling down the free meal. An uncle, who should have been cut off before seating, would bring up politics or sports or something to irritate and start an argument. This is when we air our dirty laundry without considering our dirty dishes. Family gatherings can break down, but those are the stories remembered.

Some families appreciated the volunteers in the kitchen and would form an assembly line to clean, wipe, dry and put away the dirty dishes to make a chore into a laughing song feast and a lesson learned on sharing participation and gratification.

Then, I heard there was a machine called a ‘dishwasher’ that did all the messy work. I’d forgotten I even bought one of them in my old house. The kitchen there was tiny so this box rolled on wheels and had a hose that hooked up to the sink to work. It was always in the way and not big enough to handle large amounts, so multiple loads would require more work than hand washing.

Washing dirty dishes isn’t a difficult or physically straining chore. It can be a bit gross depending on how long the dish has sat with food bits rotting on it, but a quick splash of water can bring the brightness back. Sponges of all shapes and sizes and liquid lotions can be combined to quickly wipe off the remainder of dinner and placed in a rack to drip dry. Some may need to be soaked in the sink, the way you do in the bathtub, to soften the grunge to be scraped off until the next meal. The process is just a necessary if you wish to entertain. Don’t get me started about polishing the silver.

Being the day of giving thanks, I woke up this morning to the sunshine with no aches or pains. Thanks. I had my morning breakfast with no surprises or construction noise. Thanks. The studio is warm enough to enjoy the news of the world without expecting unexpected guest to arrive and disrupt the peace and quiet. Thanks. The critter crewe got plenty of grub (no turkey) and frolicked with wild abandon entertaining without a charge. Thanks. The one-person feast was sliced turkey, wild rice and gravy (couldn’t find cranberry sauce?) and while not as appetizing as I remember, it will fill the need for nutrition. Thanks. All served, devoured and disposed of on paper plates. Thanks.

There is lots to be ‘thankful’ for, but not for everyone. I’m thankful I’m not them (yet).