An Italian Thanksgiving

“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.” 

~Thornton Wilder

I spent my first Thanksgiving away from my family yesterday. It was a strange sensation, not heading out with my friends on Thanksgiving Eve; not waking up to the smell of a roasting turkey; not watching the Macy’s Day Parade and, of course, missing out on my mom’s pumpkin bars. When you are so used to  traditions, I think it’s often hard to adjust. However, even though I was far away from home, I felt right at home as I spent my Thanksgiving with Bea’s family.

I did it all; roasted and stuffed a chicken (yes, a chicken, turkey is impossible to find), homemade stuffing and cranberry sauce, roasted potatoes, apple crisp - the works. All day, Bea and I cooked and prepared for her first Thanksgiving. And as the doorbell rang, my nerves went through the roof. I was happy to cook, and excited for everyone to indulge in an American tradition, but, cooking for authentic Italians - that’s another story! Not only was I cooking my first Thanksgiving, but I was cooking it for a culture famous for food and cooking. 

At the end of every Thanksgiving meal, the worst part is figuring out what to do with the leftovers, but as I looked around the table and saw the chicken had been demolished, the salad had finished, the apple crisp had disappeared and the cranberry sauce was no more, I realized my meal had been a success. 

So yes, I may have missed out spending my 23rd Thanksgiving at home, but I was able to introduce my new friends to a beautiful American tradition, and the best compliment I could get was watching the food disappear on their plates and their belts get a little tighter.  This was a blessing I will always be thankful for - a moment to treasure.