You're serving what?

When tradition and experimentation meet at Thanksgiving dinner, it isn't a pretty sight.

Raders, we gather to contemplate a centuries-old conflict that began on a disputed parcel of land and now threatens the safety of every American. I'm speaking, of course, about Thanksgiving dinner.

Ever since the Pilgrims landed on a rock strangely named for an automobile, people have squabbled about what to serve in commemoration. The Pilgrims, according to my exhaustive research, wanted beans and franks. The Indians preferred any kind of roasted fowl or, failing that, a roasted Pilgrim.

Today, what to serve on Thanksgiving is a bone of contention between North and South. This was never more apparent than when my wife, Judy, a Birmingham native, sat down to Thanksgiving dinner at the home of my parents, one of whom grew up in New Jersey. In addition to turkey, my mother served up sauerkraut, English peas, chestnut stuffing, and mincemeat pie. While I achieved a state of ecstasy never before realized without the aid of a recliner, TV, and imported beer, Judy went into shock. She now carries a hypo filled with adrenaline in case she encounters mincemeat again.

That experience taught me that there are certain foods Southerners expect to see at Thanksgiving, as well as certain foods they would sacrifice their firstborn to avoid. But what are they? To find out, I asked you.

Some dishes are simply a must in the South, whether you can stand them or not. Cranberry sauce is one, but only the gelatinous kind that thwoops out of the can still bearing the telltale lid marks. Green bean casserole, fashioned with mushroom soup and fried onion rings, is another. Congealed salad made with lime gelatin is essential, as is sweet potato casserole topped with marshmallows or pecans. And let's not forget cornbread dressing. "Cornbread" is the operative word; no other dressing will do. Jeanine of Hayesville, North Carolina (we've deleted the last names to protect the innocent), painfully recalls tasting her mother-in-law's white bread dressing: "It was like a bowl of Elmer's glue. I tried real hard to be the perfect daughter-in-law, but I did cry at the table."

At first glance, turkey would seem like the obvious main course for all of our readers, but nooooo. Apparently, 200 years of genetic engineering designed to reduce a turkey's IQ to that of a doorstop isn't good enough for some Southerners. They have to be different. Becky from Prairieville, Louisiana, says her husband's family insists on catfish. (Okay, but is it a Butterball catfish?) Jackie from Coppell, Texas, remembers a sister-in-law who arrived with a canned ham carved to look like a pig's head. Sounds pretty bad, until you realize she could have shaped it like the opposite end. Hilda from Guntersville, Alabama, tells of the time she went to her uncle's farm in southern Georgia and was served Thanksgiving squirrel. (Bet there was a fight over the drumsticks.)

The best thing about Thanksgiving dinner, I've concluded, is the absolute certainty that sometime during the meal, you're going to be served something truly awful, which makes for fond, fond memories. Lori from Hiram, Georgia, says one aunt always feels compelled to bring a new "gourmet" dish. One year she proudly presented Onions With Chocolate Sauce. Tom from Fort Valley, Virginia, remembers concocting a cranberry salad that included green peppers, green onions, and baby shrimp. "It was horrible," he admits. Lynn from Orange City, Florida, recalls her mother-in-law who was "into experimenting" serving Duck Stuffed With Sauerkraut and Apricots. Beverly from Gleason, Tennessee, once prepared a Cream of Coconut Pound Cake that would have been perfect save for one tiny flaw-instead of adding a can of cream, she added a can of chicken broth.

Yes, Thanksgiving disasters are moments to savor, like the experience of Cecilia from Jacksonville, Florida. "As a new bride, I wanted to make our first Thanksgiving memorable," she says. "I planned side dishes of cornbread stuffing and sweet potatoes. But being a city girl, I had no idea what fresh sweet potatoes looked like. You can imagine my husband's surprise when he saw me putting brown sugar and marshmallows on top of turnips! They were awful! Years later, we still remember our first Thanksgiving."

So do the Pilgrims. They're still hoping for beans and franks-which Judy says will go swimmingly with the Oysters in Mint-Mustard Sauce she's decided to try this year. Pray for us.

Copyright Southern Progress Corporation Nov 2003
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