Balloons, Fat Ladies, and Potatoes That Party!

Thanksgiving is one of the few holidays that remains unadulterated. It's about coming together, eating brightly-colored, comforting food, and taking some time out to reflect on what we are most thankful for. I've always loved it.

When I was little, it meant getting up early to watch Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade on our livingroom TV. The big balloons were the best part, and I'd get giddy when Snoopy or Kermit rounded awkwardly about the city block corner, bobbing down at the elated crowd. The woodstove would be crackling and sending off comforting waves of heat and I'd dance around to the marching band music in my footie pajamas. All was right in the world.

My mom was a whiz at making the house cozy. She'd make Fat Lady's Dessert in the morning and I'd watch the parade while consuming a heaping bowl of it. (It was a mixture of a homemade strawberry whipped cream mixed with lots of fruit -- pineapples, mandarin oranges, bananas, frozen strawberries, apples -- and walnuts. It was a delightfully naughty way to begin a holiday! (It got its name, I'm told, when my mother ate an entire serving bowl of it when she was pregnant with me and uncomfortably overdue.) The whole house would smell of happiness as the day's meal cooked.

I think Thanksgiving was exciting too because it was like the Start-Your-Engines time for Christmas. From Thanksgiving until Christmas (and even later), there would always be a Christmas album playing, usually Nat King Kole, Bing Crosby, Gene Audry, Johnny Mathis, or Andy Williams. And the Muppets John Denver Christmas album of course. My grandparents, like clockwork, gave us grandchildren advent calendars on Thanksgiving, which officially began the exciting countdown. Gramma always found the coolest, sweetest calendars, always covered with silvery blue glitter. She had an eye for that kind of thing.

And Thanksgiving Night at my grandparents house? Talk about cozy. The house was filled to the brim with loud, laughing relatives who seemed to adore us kids. We were well-loved children! We'd usually play a few violent games of Spoons*, force mountains of dessert in our already-full bellies, and then Jane Riley, my grandmother's best friend since they were girls, would finally get pushed into the living room to play the piano. At this junction, she'd usually protest that she wasn't any good -- she was -- but someone would inevitably force her to sit down at the old upright piano. Then her amazingly nimble fingers would run across the keys and she'd lead everyone into enthusiastic Christmas caroling, which we'd belt out for two hours or more. (Made possible because my organized Gramma had typed up Christmas carol books with all the verses to all the songs. So a person had no excuse not to sing!)

People say that the whole Norman Rockwell family is a myth, but my friends, I was the lucky gal who landed in that picture, though there were probably more plaid shirts and inappropriate jokes in our version. Our family gatherings were such wonderful times, full of raucous laughter, playful teasing, and endless hugs.

In the past few years when I was considering vegetarianism, a small part of me was afraid that if I gave up meat (read, turkey) then I'd be turning my back on those irreplaceable memories. That I'd somehow be turning my nose up at my family, particularly those who were no longer with us. As I've mentioned before, though, seeing the reality of the animals' plight wiped those worries from my brain. And now that I've been vegan for 7 months? I can't believe I worried about breaking tradition. The tradition for me wasn't about the turkey. (You're probably thinking "Duh!" but bear with me -- I'm a bit slow.) It was about the memories and the wonderful smells and tastes of all those vegetables! The tart "ping!" of the homemade cranberry relish, the buttery squash (vegan butter tastes the same!), and, oh lordy, the party potatoes.

Party potatoes. We had those at every family get-together. A carryover from the 60's/70's, it is a mashed potato dream, with butter, sour cream, and cream cheese. You cringe, but you never tasted such wonder. Though it sounds heavy, it wasn't. It was the perfect blend of flavors. Party potatoes were what happiness would taste like if you could somehow serve it up. I decided to give it a whirl with vegan products.

Now, I should point out that I was not holding my breath. As I plopped all the ingredients together, I did not have a good feeling about how things would turn out, and had prepared myself for a disappointing culinary disaster. But I had to try! :)  Much to my absolute delight, though, this new version tasted (drumroll.............) exactly like my grandmother's! Wow! And no cows hurt! Double wow!

Here is our beloved recipe if you'd like to try it yourself and have a serving of heaven on your Thanksgiving plate! 

Party Potatoes
8-10 potatoes
1 cup vegan sour cream (Tofutti is awesome)
1 tsp garlic salt
1 tsp onion salt
vegan butter (Earth Balance is the best)
8 oz of vegan cream cheese (Tofutti or Follow Your Heart are both good)
paprika

Preheat oven to 350. Peel, boil, and drain potatoes. Beat sour cream and cream cheese. Add potatoes gradually. Add spices. Put in a 2 qt. ungreased casserole dish and dot with butter. Sprinkle paprika on top. Bake until brown on top. (About 30 minutes? I forgot to time it.) Makes enough for about 6 small servings.

We've also test-driven a couple of grain-based meats that we both like. Ryan's favorite of the two was the Gardein Stuffed Turk'y, which you can find the the freezer section. And my favorite was the Field Roast Hazelnut Cranberry Roast En Croute, also in the freezer section. Both are great! You can't go wrong.

I may also make the Stuffed Acorn Squash recipe from The Vegan Table, which has lots of yummy holiday recipes! I'm really lucky, though, in that my stepmother is going all-out to make sure there is plenty of animal-friendly fare at the table. Isn't that so sweet? I offered to take care of it, but she insisted. My heart is still all warm and glowing. :)

I had mentioned yesterday that there were ways you could help the turkeys who suffer unimaginably for our palates. First off, don't eat them. (Life goes on, I promise. In fact, it gets way better!) Second, consider following the lead of Ellen DeGeneres and Adopt/Sponsor a Turkey through Farm Sanctuary. (There is probably a similar program at an animal sanctuary near you!)

Here's a fun video of a woman who helps place rescued turkeys. (It gets intense at 1:32 - 2:26, so skip that part if it's too much for you. But don't miss the rest of it! The kids snuggling with these turkeys is too much and seeing them enjoy a nice blow-dry simply has to be seen to be believed.) 

So -- what are fun old or new traditions that you enjoy on Thanksgiving? What is your favorite dish?

*Sometime before Thanksgiving, I'll post the game Spoons. You absolutely must play this game with your own family!

I love turkeys...and not in THAT way. Or the food way.

 Petunia, a rescued turkey at the Woodstock Animal Sanctuary in New York.

Today's post raves about how cool turkeys are! Tomorrow's post will focus on my yummy plans for Thanksgiving this year...stay tuned! :)

Two years ago, I happened upon a very graphic undercover PETA video on how turkeys are treated in the industry. (I believe it was at a Butterball factory farm.) I was devastated and could not fathom how people could be so cruel.

And yet I couldn't fathom giving up turkey.

So I went online and researched humanely-raised turkeys and how I could procure one that had had a good life and a fairly painless death. The closest I got was Whole Foods, who assured me that their turkeys had it much better than their Butterball counterparts. I felt slightly better, but still uneasy.

For two Thanksgivings, I got caught up in the tradition of the day -- a day I adore! How great is a holiday about giving thanks? -- and was able to successfully avoid thinking about the bird as anything but food. Yet I could always feel the blinders digging in in an irritating fashion, the way a bra feels when it's just not fitting right. (Sorry boys ... you'll have to come up with your own analogy.) :)

It wasn't until last April that I decided to stop eating animals, after finally seeing the immense suffering my taste buds were inflicting on animals that had done nothing to me. (And "humanely-raised meat," much to my dismay, did not get a free pass.)

Once I no longer had to deal with feelings of remorse,  though, I became very curious about the creatures that I had previously and guiltily acknowledged as food. Turkeys, whom I'd always assumed to be sweetly daft, are fascinating creatures who defy the stereotype as the animal kingdom idiot. (Hmm....is it easier to hurt an animal if we think of him or her as unintelligent? As Jeremy Benthem noted in the 18th century, "The question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?")

Here is a lovely excerpt about a turkey named Ethel, written by Kathy Stevens, the founder of Catskill Animal Sanctuary in New York. (Taken from Colleen Patrick-Goudreau's Vegan's Daily Companion.)

Ethel, The Greatest Turkey of All Time

"Ethel arrived with six other turkeys, fortunate escapees from an industry that grows close to 300 million birds annually -- and then kills them.

Fortunately, Ethel was to have a different fate.


From her first day, it was clear that Ethel was a standout, curious kinda gal. Turkeys are gentle; Ethel groomed our truly free-range chickens, sheep, and pigs. Turkeys are affectionate; Ethel became our first lap turkey.


Ethel craves connection. Whether you're turkey, sheep, horese, chicken, rabbit, pig, human, or other is irrelevant. Her criteria are simple: if you live and breathe, Ethel wants to know you.


Despite her love of animals, Ethel seems to find the greatest joy in connecting with humans. When I sit down and cross my legs, Ethel sidles up to me until her big bird body touches my side, trills her lovely turkey trill, and stares at me. When I pick her up and place her in my lap, her body relaxes and her eyes quickly grow heavy with sleep. For those moments, all is right in my world, and, it seems, in hers. 


Every weekend throughout our visiting season, both tour guides and guests struggle not to step on Ethel. When we're in the barn, she settles into the middle of each group, moving with us as we move from animal to animal. She moves from one guest to the next, looking deeply into their eyes. In these moments, whatever's in that big turkey heart seems a lot like love."



To further illustrate how amazing turkeys are, there's a new documentary on PBS about a man who, by chance, became the mother of a clutch of wild turkey eggs. It's called My Life as a Turkey, and it looks fascinating!

You won't believe this short clip from My Life as a Turkey. So sweet and moving.

So if these creatures are indeed so wonderful, how can we justify hurting them? Killing them? Giving them such a horrendous life when they pose no threat to us? And all this senseless cruelty when we can survive quite beautifully without consuming them?

Below is an intense video (and one amusing commercial) on what happens to turkeys in order to bring them to our tables. I feel fairly certain that very few people will watch this. In fact, the chances are that nobody will. Which is fine. I totally get it. But if we can't even bear to watch it, what does that say about our choices? (And I'm throwing myself in that ring too -- I ate turkeys for 40 years.) Should we be paying others to hurt/abuse/kill feeling animals when we can't even watch it happening, never mind do it ourselves? If we are true carnivores/omnivores, shouldn't we be salivating, not cringing?

 Intense video of the journey turkeys take to get to our plates

(read above before watching)

 And this commercial, which is not intense, but very accurate and pretty funny!

So, as I said, tomorrow will be all happiness and holiday-cheer! I'll be talking about the yummy things I've got planned for this Thursday and how you can help these amazing creatures in very simple ways!