Thanksgiving has always been a special time, with the weather turning colder, the threat of snow always present, and of course, the big holiday feast. The single day that I remember most, occurred in the mid 60s. My parents and sister were living on Mooney Avenue in Syracuse, and my wife and I and our two children had driven there to spend the day with them.
I can remember the pleasant smells that greeted us as we walked in, about mid-morning. My mother, as usual, had been in the kitchen from early morning, preparing the turkey and all the customary “fixings” - stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce ( both the jellied form and whole berry sauce ), squash, candied sweet potatoes, green vegetables, relish platter, mashed turnip and, of course, homemade dinner rolls and pumpkin pie. The combined smells were enough to make my mouth water.
My wife was soon caught up in the cooking, and my dad and I were glad that the kitchen was on the small side - all we had to do was set the dining room table, watch some football, and listen to the increasingly louder, growling noises that were issuing from our stomachs. My sister was playing with the kids, and we were, more or less, on standby until dinner was ready, at which time my dad would carve the bird. All of a sudden, we heard this burst of laughter from the kitchen - it didn't die down, but just kept getting louder. All we could hear was something about the stuffing, followed by more gales of laughter.
I should explain that my mom always washed the inside of the turkey, and dried it thoroughly with paper towel before she stuffed it. Well, she must have been distracted at sometime during the process, because things didn't turn out as usual. My wife had been removing the stuffing from the bird, when she noticed something strange wedged deep into the cavity. Closer inspection showed that this object had a fancy print design on the edge.
Sure enough, there was a large wad of paper towel packed deep into the bird, held in place by the stuffing, which had been added sometime later. When we all converged in the kitchen, we found mom doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down her face, with the wad of paper in her hand. Needless to say, this little episode provided laughs for many years, especially at Thanksgiving time. Usually, my dad would wait for a lull in the conversation at the table before making a strange face, as if something wasn't quite right. Mom would always fall for the gag and ask if everything tasted all right. Dad would pause, and say something like... “I think it’s the stuffing. It doesn't have enough paper towels.”, or, “Everything’s fine, please pass the paper towels and gravy.” Mom would always act as if she was offended, for as long as she could, before dissolving into laughter. This will always be my favorite Thanksgiving memory.
F.A, Zedik
11-25-96