Yesterday evening we were planning out the Thanksgiving dinner.
There are a couple different types of vegetables on the menu. Potatoes, turkey, gravy… pretty much your standard fare for the meal.
Not like at Christmas. Christmas dinner seems to be a bigger deal. I’m not sure why. It has just sort of evolved that way.
At Christmas, instead of just plain old mashed potato, we end up making this potato casserole thing. It’s a recipe my mother came across many years ago, that has potatoes, sour cream and cream cheese. It’s actually pretty tasty, but it is a bit of work. Somehow, though, it has become a Christmas tradition.
But not at Thanksgiving. That is pretty much a turkey dinner. Nothing very special.
Except maybe the simplified version of my great-grandfather’s dressing.
There are a couple things I leave out of his recipe, just to make it easier. Someday I might go for the full thing, but the simple version has become a bit of a family favourite, so I’m sticking with that.
The full version involves sausage meat, which I tend not to use. It also calls for chestnuts.
When I was younger, I often wondered who would want to eat chestnuts? They’re pretty bitter and not at all tasty. I eventually figured out that it was calling for edible chestnuts. Not the type that comes from the trees that line out streets. When I finally got the chance to try the roasting-over-an-open-fire type chestnuts, they are actually pretty good.
But the thing that has always struck me is these things aren’t easy to find now. How did they ever become a part of a recipe from the 1800s?
There is the possibility the remote possibility the recipe goes back to the says before the family left Europe and could hop on their horse and make a quick trip to Spain or Italy to grab a bag of chestnuts for the dressing, but I find that a bit doubtful. Possible, but doubtful.
So I skip that part and just throw together the basics. It works, but some day I’m going to try the full recipe. Just to taste the difference.