As a kid, I couldn’t see the point of Thanksgiving. A holiday with no presents, no fireworks, a brief and blurry view of some enormous balloons going down Fifth Avenue on the TV, a holiday when the grownups sat down and ate all day, and made us do the same– what could be less appealing?
At that age, I didn’t appreciate friendship sufficiently, having had only a few friends and not having traveled far from anything.
Now as I cook my way through the morning, Thanksgivings Past are in the back of my mind: sessions in places as far from Nashville as Orange County, Naples, Taipei, New Haven, Burnsville (NC), San Germán, Glasgow, Key West.
It gives a particular many-layered flavor to the parsnips, not to mention the big bird, now roasting away under a carapace of Sichuan flower pepper.