You need to watch this. And be patient, because it takes a minute to really get going.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Who remembers this obscure little ditty? And this even more obscure little band? Did they have anymore hits after this? I never heard of them again. Still, I celebrate their choice of soprano sax, and I know that Ken Gorelick is proud of them for trying.
This time of year makes me think of going to my grandma's house in Macon on Thanksgiving. The entire family -- aunts, uncles, cousins, about 30 of us in all -- would pile into my grandparents' tiny little 2BR house and eat ourselves into a stupor and make short work of the food my grandma had spent several days making. And then she wouldn't even sit down while the rest of us were stuffing our faces, instead making sure everyone had some of everything and a full glass of iced tea. My grandad would always say, "Carlese, sit down and eat. We're fine." And she would -- for about 30 seconds, and then she was up again, off to check on the kids in the kitchen at the kids' table, or to bring in another pitcher of iced tea that was so sweet, it was like drinking candy.
Anyhoo, she made the exact same meal every Thanksgiving, even down to the desserts. Get a load of this feast:
pork roast (for my grandad, who didn't like turkey)
ham (my aunt brought this)
mac & cheese (homemade, of course)
potatoes (mashed, boiled, or both sometimes)
rice & gravy
greens (collards, usually, but sometimes turnips)
celery stuffed with homemade pimento cheese
congealed salad (lemon with walnuts - YUM)
cranberry sauce (from a can)
biscuits (small and crispy on the outside, fluffy inside)
fried corn bread (flat and crispy)
All the desserts were on a cart next to the table, and you could eat them anytime you liked. I often had a slice of pecan pie right along with my meal. The desserts:
key lime pie
coconut cake (I think one of my aunts made it)
lemon cake (my mom made it)
chocolate-covered cherries (store-bought, not homemade)
Don't ask me how she cooked all that stuff by herself, but she did, most of it. She was a remarkable woman, about 5'2" in heels and with mostly black hair until the day she died at age 89 back in 2001. She was nuttier than squirrel shit, but I loved her and still think of her almost every day. She went to kiss me one time and I said, "Oh grandma, you don't want to kiss me, my breath is awful" (I'd driven down from Athens and had beer/hangover breath from a dorm party the night before.) She smiled and said, "I'd kiss you even if you had cat dookie on your lips." And she did.
Tell us about the Thanksgiving feast you grew up eating. I'd love to see how it varies among different parts of the country.