A few weeks ago, we got an email from a local farm saying they were now taking Thanksgiving orders for heritage turkeys. “That is awesome. Let’s do it!” Andy said. For about a millisecond, I was on board, until I remembered that when it comes to the turkey, it’s not my call to make. Andy and I have free rein to go all rogue (within reason) on the sides — adding anchovies to roasted cauliflower or oranges and mint to the cranberry sauce — but my Mom owns the turkey and gravy. If it’s going to be anything other than a 14 1/2 pound Bell & Evans bird, it’s Mom who has to sign off on it. And let’s be honest, if you own the turkey, you own the holiday. My sister hosts, my brother brings snacks and pies, my father is on wine patrol, but my mom is President and CEO.
And also Secretary. I like to think that the reason why Thanksgiving teeters on the happy side of the chaos spectrum in our house is because of my mother’s Post Feast Analysis System. Every year, on the morning after Thanksgiving, she grabs her legal pads (she’s an attorney and I don’t think she ever leaves home without them) and starts taking detailed notes on the holiday: Date, menu, number and names of attendees, temperature, who cooked what, who bought what and where, what she needs more of next year, what she needs less of, what worked, what didn’t. Naturally, I’m not nearly as fascinated by the menu as I am by the details that surround the menu. What makes her system awesome is not just that it reminds us that we ate sweet potato casserole in 2011 and 2012 — it’s the little detail that my then 9-year-old niece requested fewer pecans in the casserole next time around. It’s not just that we auditioned a new cranberry sauce last year — it’s that my then 11-year-old niece was the one in charge of spearheading it with me. (Mom was also sure to note she’s not willing to give up on her old-school sauce just yet.) Of course, I look to the notes to see how I can improve my performance next time. Last year I did a couple things right (I provided “superb” homemade stock for the gravy — which was like getting a gold star) and also a few things wrong (in the mashed potatoes department: a simple “too much”). But at least I didn’t mess up the turkey.
Here’s a sneak peak of my mom’s post-game report. Is there any question who I inherited the recording gene from?
So awesome! I think that is a great idea!
I. love. this. Like mother like daughter, right?
My girlfriend’s husband literally wrote 3 pages (FRONT AND BACK) just about cooking the turkey one year. I mean, I’m all about writing down notes and details, but 6 pages? It’s one turkey! We still tease him about it 😉
how long back does she have these notes? you should bind them together in a book for everyone one year for christmas.
http://semiweeklyeats.blogspot.com/2013/11/weekend-outfit-2.html
I do this too! With every holiday.. I’m glad I’m not the only one.. And also that we’re pretending this is a cool (and not crazy) thing to do 🙂
Not related to this but I downloaded my December Bon Appetit last night and I love your article on the Christmas dinner! Our dinner is the same way!
Ahh, I so want to do this! Post-mortem is not my strong suit, but I very much love looking back at them after the fact. Great motivation!
How to improve my perfomance? Perhaps by not deciding on Christmas morning to make a tarte aux fraise from scratch – yes, from the spontaneously disintegrating pâte sucrée to the crème pâtissière that refused to thicken. And booking to leave on holiday the day after.
I love this! Btw, I finally got around to reading your book (and then promptly thereafter rereading Sam Stifton’s Thanksgiving) and I cannot even begin to say how much both books are really excellent. I haven’t read very many books that got me so excited about the idea of (eventually) having a family and getting to introduce my kids to family dinner as yours did, and it really made me appreciate how incredibly lucky I’ve been to have grown up in a family that prioritized family dinner in a huge way.
I have to smile as I read your post as my mother-in-law does the same post-analysis after every single get together/pot luck gathering (the later we have no control of what or how much the guests bring but the analysis is done in any case). It used to drive me crazy and but now I truly appreciate the this in the interest of food management and tastiness. Of course, my m-i-l is *very* precise, as in “We have 8 people coming, they get two spring rolls each” whereas I would tend to err on the side of more (fried food? 50 always sounds good to me…and looks better on the plate!) and doggie bags which nobody ever seems to refuse. But the post-analysis has helped me create better food next time as well as minimize excess…well, kind of. 🙂
Love this idea
#newslettergiveaway
This is my favorite idea of the day. Possibly month. Doing it now!
Also – what was in the “superb home made stock?”
What is a “quoque” that your mum has written in the header of each review?
Thanks,
I can’t believe there’s a kindred family out there that does this. We actually have a spreadsheet to fill out ever year. We list who was there, what food was served, opinions and ratings of the food, entertainment, and a best dressed category. I love looking through past Thanksgivings and being reminded of things like the time my college-aged nephew wrote „no molasses cake… this is bullshit“.