As the blog title implies, this is about Thanksgiving dinner. That and a little crippled plastic bulldozer named Dumpster Flatbush... Well, maybe I am getting a bit ahead of myself.
This was the first Thanksgiving I can ever recall where I was not with my immediate family, due to the obvious logistical reasons pertaining to me being on the wrong side of America. Fortunately, however, I was invited to spend turkey day with my Cousin Lahney (law-nee) and her husband Michael (mahy-kuhl). Both college professors & they have two wonderful children, Brigid & Arthur - I'm done with phonetics, figure it out yourself.
Along for the ride was Michael's side of the family.. if I were to wear one shirt, just one, to every event involving people I am just meeting for the first through, say, 5th time, it would read in bold font (preferably Times New Roman), right on the front: "I already forgot your name".
We'll just refer to them as 'The Mattos' for now.
'The Mattos' (Mike excepted) all flew in from California to have Turkey Day at my Cousin's place in Brooklyn, which is about, when fully extended, 800 SQ feet (but they have a yard!). It was explained to me, by 'the Mattos', why they decided to come out here for TG, and brave the weather, flight delays, and cramped quarters... that reason being: "we go to the largest home".
/sarcasm (<-- nerdy html lingo)
But here is the real reason: Mike can cook. TG dinner was a smorgasbord of culinary perfection. The turkey was the only standard thing there, which was perfectly cooked and set in the bathtub for, uh.. safe keeping, to make room in the kitchen for everything else that was being prepared. The stuffing had designer ingredients with dried cranberries mixed in, and a secondary stuffing was more like a salad with a special leafy green I couldn't identify mixed with seasoned rye croutons & special herbs & nuts. The sweet patatoes were grated & lightly braised with butter & somethingelseicouldn'tidentify, the green beans pan seared with sesame oil, sesame seeds, and soy sauce (hey, the chinese like Thanksgiving to you know!), and the pie - my god the pie!! It was apple. Homemade. 'nough said.
Lahney made the pie, she is the desert person. When asked if she cooked TG dinner when I first arrived, I was greeted with a short chortling laughter that suggested that I really don't know how things work around here.
I snapped this picture prior to chowing down on my perfectly adjusted plate of gourmet Thanksgiving goodness, and caught Mike's Mom discussing the subtleties of flavor in the sweet potato, erm ... hash, asking meandering questions about it's ingredients. Mike all the while being strangely evasive. I guess recipes don't flow freely within this family; It was a murderous stare I got when I correctly diagnosed a flavor as a dash of tarragon.
A shot of the crew, sans Michael & myself (wow I'm tall):
My Cousin Lahney with Michael. Yeah, the kitchen really is that small, and sadly twice the size of my kitchen.
A picture of my two.... uh..., any genealogy experts in the house? Look how happy they are, food neatly on their plates, faces all clean.... yeah. Like this is a stable situation right here.
The trick to good parenting, and keeping the little ones in line, is always having the upper hand. Underneath those handmade table cards with our names on them (made by the skilful young hands of Brigid & Arthur), were chocolate cappucino toffee suckers. Each of us had one. Arthur and Brigid were certainly aware of them, and couldn't finish their meal fast enough in order to have a shot and getting into theirs. The suckers turned out to be terrific leverage in getting the kids to eat, but it turned into a different situation after that, I tell you...
See, we all had the same thing. We all had our own chocolate cappucino toffee sucker, waiting like some wonderful promise after the meal to be enjoyed at our leasure... but in our tryptophan induced hypnotically relaxed states, none of us reached for those suckers right away, because we all knew what was coming.
The kids already had theres. Eaten. Gone. For us to open the sucker, and to start in on it, was to become the focus of all the attention; the envy of all (under 3' tall) who see us, and to be asked the simple, but so obvious, question any kid will ask when you have something they don't have:
"Can I try yours?"
We all had our suckers. We all got asked the question. Multiple times. It's still marinating in my head as I write this. "Can I try yours?" More in Brigid's voice I think.
Until this point in the evening, my role wasn't quite clear. I stood out of the way as dinner was being prepared, added color commentary when opportunity presented itself, played A.D.D. 'Simon Says', and generally stayed out of the way. But my true purpose revealed itself shortly after dinner and the sucker incident, when it became sucrose fueled playtime, and I became the playground.
Arthur has a little named toy, with some juvenile history that left it disfigured and abandoned on the street, that became the focus of the evening's entertainment.
It's (His?) Name is: Dumpster Flatbush. So named because he was found on a dumpster on flatbush St. It's a yellow plastic bulldozer, in glorious life like detail (including the dirt!). There are 2 free hanging swinging stumps where the missing shovel blade used to hang from. Apparently, in it's prime, Dumpster Flatbush was a full functioning replica of the real deal; Carelessly discarded by it's previous owner - one man's trash in another man's treasure. Case in point.
I spent the better part of an hour chasing Arthur around with Dumpster Flatbush, even giving him an identity & voice (somewhere between Freddie Kruger and Walter Cronkite), running him and Brigid over while they tried to escape and hide.
It was great fun, for a while at least. Until my throat began to burn from the vocal modulations. Then it was time for a new game.
Here's a tip for parents out there - Kids love hide and seek. If you can get them to be the ones who hide, you can really rack up the rest time by pretending to 'almost start looking' for them. The trick is to make sure they stay hidden, and you are just abut to come looking. I was able to sustain it for about 15 minutes, but by that time the boredom got to me and the game had to end, I went and hid instead.
Some more quality shots for your viewing pleasure...
Story Time!!! Michael has a friend (ex NY colleague) in Kansas, and as a gift he sent her a NY themed book. In reply, as a joke, she sent him & Lahney a Kansas themed children's book. Here's the kids trying to look interested in this otherwise, painfuly boring tale (I think having to do with corn crops & alcohol distillation):
Brigid goes for a flight with the substitute playground (I was still in hiding when taking the shot, the flash compromised my position).
How about a closer view of funny face over there on the lower left...
Arthur's turn - judging by Grandma's face, it's his turn to do something else as well.
