One Turkey's Life Has Been Saved

What is wrong with this picture? It is close to 10am, our flight for Cyprus is today, but I have yet to get into the shower. Finally, after years of travel, we have a flight that does not leave at some ungodly hour. Past trips have departed as early as 5:30am, which basically doesn’t even qualify as a night’s sleep the day before. We need to be at the airport by 4am the earliest.

It is with great gratitude this flight doesn’t leave until 5:30pm. The taxi is arranged for a 3pm pick-up, getting us to the airport an unusual 2 hours early. For the first time in years, we are initially flying outside the Schengen Zone, so there will be Passport Control to navigate and adding to our airport time.

Starting with Thanksgiving 2002, we have celebrated the holiday with 6-8 others here in our home. We scrambled around to find a whole turkey; they are as rare as fur on a chicken. For a few years, we had an in with a US Embassy employee who would take pity on us and get one at their commissary. When they were transferred, we were relegated to rolling the dice and wishing for good fortune. It worked, but the effort was similar to an extreme sports competition.

Next was finding cranberries, since ready-made sauce was totally out of the question. When we first discovered them in 2005 at the great market, they were averaging $6 for a half pound. Gritting our teeth, we paid the price. It was similar to getting a bandage ripped off.

Never to be seen was pumpkin, at least the kind we find in cans in the US. Then again, it was not until 2010 that real pumpkins started sparsely appearing in large produce markets, but were even more readily available at florist shops, where they were sold as decoration. There are specialty grocery stores where you have to barter your kidney for a can of pumpkin or any other ingredient to make the holiday dinner seem most traditional. However, often we were fortunate with B and B guests who would generously be our mule for pumpkin, cranberries, or whatever other element was needed.

It is always at this time of year that we remember to give thanks for American ways which are infiltrating this part of Europe at last. Being an expat is wonderful most of the time, but it seems that changes in weather spark that autumn nostalgic feeling for the back home festive décor and traditions.

When we lived in the US, we hosted Thanksgiving dinner for all of our friends who did not have families close by to celebrate the holiday. Seven years of Thanksgiving feasts were spread over our dining room table in California. In 2001, we had already left the US, so we celebrated Thanksgiving at the Hard Rock Restaurant in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Nevertheless, from 2002 through 2013, we were the focal point for other Americans and some Hungarians who wished to share our tradition.

Ron suggested we bypass the holiday hunter/gather stress this year and vacation away. Cyprus is on our list of the 10 smallest countries in Europe, which we are checking off. The airfare was cheap enough, less than $130 each. Off we go…until Saturday.

This is an oldie, but goodie for Thanksgiving smiles. Click on the turkey or here. Wishing everyone who celebrates it, Happy Thanksgiving. I will be writing from Cyprus as I am able.

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Happy Thanksgiving to All US Americans

This is for all US Americans regardless of where you live, Happy Thanksgiving. Our other American friends, the Canadians celebrated their Thanksgiving holiday in October.

If you need any last minute assistance, perhaps this will guide you along the way.

I will be preparing the pumpkin and apple desserts today for our holiday gathering tomorrow. 

Here are a few history lessons regarding the holiday.

How FDR changed Thanksgiving. 
Thanksgiving from the History Channel.

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Pardon My Turkey

There is an American Thanksgiving tradition that each year, the president in office pardons a turkey. One lucky turkey gets a chance to live another year or at least until someone’s other meal. Although in this picture, it is difficult to decide if the turkey is getting pardoned or last rites. In Hungary, it seems many turkeys are getting a pass for us American ex-pats who want to celebrate the holiday in a traditional way. 

Finding turkey parts is easy. It just takes a walk into just about any supermarket or butcher shop. You can find turkey legs, wings and breasts. The latter are usually skinned already. Whole turkeys are as rare as hen’s teeth. Each year it becomes a treasure hunt to find a whole turkey, rather than an assorted assembly kit. This year was no different. 

It seemed logical that if asked, a butcher shop would be able to order a whole turkey before some axe happy assailant chopped it to bits, so with this thought in mind, I went from butcher to butcher. Just for assurance, I had our friend Gabor write it in Hungarian so there would not be any misunderstanding. Each shop, I handed over my paper with the question on it. Each attempt had the same result. NEM, nem, nem! NO, no, no! The looks that accompanied this phrasing was enough to make me feel like I wanted something exotic like zebra steaks or something. Yeesh!

The next logical step was to ask the Budapest Ex-Pat Facebook groups for suggestions. Thank goodness for Canadians. They have their Thanksgiving in October, so they have paved the way already. Three extremely reasonable suggestions were made along with the usual ones that should have been deleted by the moderator. One of the online shopping venues that we use on occasion had turkeys for 2,900 Huf a kg which translates to $6.50 a pound. Now I want a whole turkey as much as the next traditionalist, but I am not willing to pay $6.50 a pound for it. 

Other ideas were to order the ready-made dinners from Marriott or Intercontinental Hotels. We did that one year, spent over $150 for a meal supposed to feed six and were sorely disappointed. Ron managed to find a butcher who has some sense of sensibility about the situation and promised to order the bird. Now, we are moving the celebration from this Thursday to this Friday. Most of our six dinner guests have to work on Thursday and Friday, so they would not be able to arrive until later Thursday and have to leave earlier. 

In preparation, yesterday I experiment by making Gluten Free and Vegan Chai Spiced Pumpkin Bars since one of our guests is gluten intolerant. This was a real challenge. Not only are whole turkeys a rarity here, but pie pans are totally unheard of. I went to twelve different stores that sold housewares and kitchen goods, but not one had anything close. Flan pans are not pie pans. To make sure there was no miscommunication, I had pictures of various pie pans on my phone so show. Nada! Then there was the expedition trying to find coconut milk (easy), coconut syrup (extremely difficult), coconut flour (medium difficulty), and then a long list of spices that I was not sure of the Hungarian name for and was too rushed to Google translate them. Eventually, I found myself at the Asian Market next to the Great Market where I found all that I needed and a nice man who spoke English too. The coconut syrup is artificial, but after going to 8 health food stores including 6 of them that sold paleo diet products, I gave up and went artificial. 

Guests are each contributing other goodies to make the meal like a traditional celebration. I am planning a crustless apple pie too. Gratefully, I now have a closet full of just about any spice I could need. I am all set to go. 

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Flipping the Bird Back At You

As you should know by now, we had a lovely Thanksgiving sharing it with four delightful Americans who are living here for various amounts of time. Per customary procedure, each person asked what they could contribute to the dinner. One of our dear friends, offered to order and cook the turkey.

Getting a whole turkey here is a tremendous challenge, but we offered to buy it ready cooked from one of the hotels that were catering the holiday. She insisted that her turkey cooking methods were beyond comparison. Finally, she had me believing that if she did not cook the turkey, we would repent for years to come. The agreement was that we would pay for the bird and she would prepare it.

The preparations turned out to be monumental. The turkey had to be brined the day before. I had never brined a turkey, had no clue why a turkey had to be brined, but from the sound of it, I was just grateful I was not the one having to do it.

Thanksgiving Day, the turkey and the cook arrived via taxi. The turkey was stuffed as we soon would be on the entire dinner. Everything was lovely. Praises went to all of the contributing dinner cooks and thanks were given for the turkey.

Our turkey cook was not satisfied with what she sensed were meager accolades, so she later e-mailed me to get my honest reaction to the turkey. Again, I sent thanks for assuming the chore and saying how lovely the turkey turned out.  Since not appeased, she wrote me yet again wanting minute details on every thought I have ever had about turkey basting, stuffing, and roasting including all ingredients ever tried and the polls taken after each. This is how I responded to the last e-mail.

Reading your e-mail right before going to bed is not healthy for my sleep cycle. I had two dreams about you in succession, each causing me trauma.

In the first dream, you had hauled me off to witness a line up like you see victims doing in the movies. After being warned that this was a one-way mirror and I could not be observed, the veil lifted. However, instead of six potential criminals standing in front of height charts, one waiting to be pointed out as the culprit, there were six cooked turkeys hanging by scales. Each scale pointed to weights ranging from 7.8 to 9.1 kilos with minor differences in between.

As I stood there facing the turkeys, you tell me to point to the turkey you cooked for Thanksgiving dinner. You demanded that I should be able to pick it out from the rest. My mind was reeling with numbers trying to remember the pre-cooked weight you had told us the turkey was, but then I had to try to calculate the weight lost from a hot oven for hours.

Attempting a guess based on the color of the golden browned skins was nearly impossible as they were all as beautifully tanned as a devotee of a solarium salon. The only thing that allows me to rule out two of the six was the telltale pop-up timers jutting out of the thighs of those birds. That spelled Butterball for sure and not free range. There was nary a speck of grass or a partial gigerium that could be harboring a pebble giving trace evidence.

I failed in this task, so you walked into the room with disgust and flipped me the bird that I should have chosen.

After waking in a cold sweat from this dream, it took forever to return to sleep, but later I wish I hadn’t. Again, you penetrated my dreams. This time we were in a courtroom. I was on the witness stand. You were the persecuting attorney questioning me.

You: Dr. James, do you see the turkey you were presented for Thanksgiving in this courtroom?

Me: No, the only thing that was left was the carcass and we used that to make soup.

You: So, remembering you are under oath, would you say that this was the best turkey you have ever eaten?

Me: No, I cannot say that, because over the course of my life I have eaten hundreds of turkeys.

You: But, wouldn’t you say this was one of the most flavorful and moist turkeys in your memory? Now remember you are under oath.

Me: No, I am sorry. If you had six turkeys lined up and had me blindfolded, I could not pick this one out from the rest while doing a taste test.

You look at me with carving knives flying from your eyes and give me both the bird from both hands.

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Thanksgiving Time

It will soon be Thanksgiving, like tomorrow. This is one of my favorite holidays. I used to have a holiday trio: Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Halloween isn't so much fun since we have lived in Hungary. There are no festive kiddies prancing the streets looking for goodies or mischief.

Christmas has fallen from favor since we are on vacation each year when it comes around. We celebrate it alone, in some warm inviting country discovering new foods and customs. Yet I still miss that sense of family that I grew up with, even if that went by the wayside decades ago.

So all of my energy is tossed into Thanksgiving. For years, I would have to start pleading guests starting in May, to bring over ingredients from the US that I could not find here. Each year, it has become a bit easier, if not expensive, having to buy these items at the specialty shops. But, it is only once a year and we don't have people to buy Christmas presents for, so why not? 

Tomorrow, we will have a total of 7 for dinner, all Americans. Our annual tradition is to try to reach out the Americans that we have come to known here who don't have family or other big events to attend.

The menu includes:
Appetizers of Artichoke Dip and Corn crisps

Then at the dinner table:
Pumpkin soup
Turkey
Stuffing
Italian flavored mushrooms
Mashed potatoes
Sweet potato casserole
Brussels Sprouts
Cranberry sauce
Pumpkin pie
Apple pie

Not too shabby for a hunt and peck ingredients hunt.

If I don't make it back tomorrow between the cooking, Happy Thanksgiving to all of you USA folks. Sorry, Canada, I know yours was last month.

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Festive Autumn Windows

Our coleus finally gave out with the sudden cold temperatures. Ron did his window decorating for the fall. After Thanksgiving, the winter penguins will make they way out to grace the balcony walkway until we return in mid-January.

Only six more weeks until we leave? Good grief, time evaporates unless I am grading essays.

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Blimp Friday

Just about everyone world-wide is familiar with the US term "Black Friday". This is the most celebrated shopping day on the calendar and it is the day after Thanksgiving. If merchants don't make a major haul with sales on this day, the rest of the Christmas shopping season will look like the Grinch who stole Christmas. 

What most people give little reference to is Blimp Friday. This is the same day as Black Friday, but it a bit more personal. This is the day when everyone realizes they ate more than a teenage boy who has toked a few funny joints to survive the family gathering. Thanksgiving evening and the day after, people try to rent themselves out as the new Goodyear Blimp, swearing they are never going to eat again, at least not for the next two weeks. This manages to truncate to less than 4 hours in reality when that turkey sandwich on gooey white bread with Hellmann's Real Mayonnaise is screaming your name from the fridge.

We worked diligently at polishing off our Thanksgiving dinner. Sharing our table was W. Hunter Roberts, a Swedenborg minister, Melissa and Scott Rank, and our B and B guest Vidor. Vidor is originally from the Philippines but now lives in New Jersey. Our turkey came cooked and stuffed from Culinaris, the gourmet grocery store and it ran 6 1/2 kg. (14 lbs) after being cooked. We were expecting two others, but they were held up in Prague. Prior to sitting down to  the dinner table, our gullets were prepped with hot artichoke dip, assorted crackers and goat cheese all washed down with some Asti Spumanti, donated by one of my students. Once at the dinner table, accompanying the turkey was a mountain of mashed potatoes, a bog of cranberries of various types, a canal of sweet potato casserole, boats of Brussels sprout mash, rivers of gravy, and enough stuffing for three life sized teddy bears.

Before a single fork was dislodged from its place, Ron had prearranged for Hunter to do a communion. She brought a loaf of bread, said a prayer and broke the bread passing it around to share. As tradition dictates, she did the same with a glass of wine. Ron had a copy of this prayer for anyone who wanted to recite it with him.

Prayer for Peace
God of many names, lover of all peoples; we pray for peace in our nations and in our world.
We pray for all who have the awesome responsibility of power and decision-making.
We pray for the innocent victims of violence and war.
Lead us and all the people of the world from death to life, from falsehood to truth.
Lead us from despair to hope, from fear to trust.
Lead us from hate to love, from war to peace.
Let peace and justice fill our hearts, our world, our universe.       Amen

Though none of this is something I would have chosen, it seemed to make all the rest content, so it didn't ruffle my feathers on this lovely holiday of sharing. As the dinner progressed, as we shared stories of holidays past spent with families, some rather hysterical while others bordered on OMG, I realized a new business idea. 

Remember you saw it here first. Announcing the new Family Holiday Warning Labels. Why waste time and embarrassment when you bring friends or new romances home to meet the family for a holiday? With my new offering, no one is caught off guard. As you walk in the door you slap the appropriate label on the forehead of each family member. 

Nephew Timmy: Normally a pleasant ten year-old child, but when over excited, he will bite your ankles.

Aunt Maude: Never stops talking about how much she misses her long dead husband who she hated when he was alive.  

Uncle Henry: Has dementia and may whip out his penis without warning.  

Great Aunt Minnie: If she tells you she can play a wind instrument, don't ask her to demonstrate her talent.

Mother: Still striving to look twenty-eight, she believes her breasts continue to be firm and will offer to let you squeeze them if you are good. 

Grandfather:  Will rest his dentures on the dinner table between courses after he flicks them in the hair to loosen food particles.

All in all, it was a wonderful evening of sharing.

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Happy Thanksgiving!!

Myspace Turkey Animations provided by MUDTRAP.COM

One quick post before our guests start to arrive, this is the day to give thanks and I want to do that. In no particular order of importance I want to say that I am thankful for all of this.

• I am thankful for all of my friends who have been by my side through the good, bad, and the ugly. Some of the ugly could have scared off any lesser person, but they were right there any time I needed them.
• I am thankful I get to live in Europe. My gene pool was has European springs feeding it.
  
• I am thankful Frommer's editor Stephen Bassman found me thought this blog and asked me to be their Budapest and Hungary author multiple times.
• I am thankful for my students who study diligently making me feel like I am doing something purposeful.
• I am thankful that my writing seems to be appreciated with over 3, 000 page views a month.
• I am thankful for finding Nigel Hancock, a wonderful friend, though we have never met. Nigel has been a pillar and mentor for Ron's and my BudaBaB website and for the new and soon to be released Life Coaching website. Without Nigel, I would still be wading through Joomla for Dummies, feeling like what was really needed is a Joomla for Dunces version just for me.
• I am thankful that even with age, I am still able to do Pilates. Okay, it is more strenuous than twelve years ago, but I can do it. 
• I am thankful that Ron is young and limber enough still to go to yoga, even if he grumbles after each class.
• Most of all, I am thankful for having Ron in my life for the last eighteen plus years. Without him, I wouldn't have had the motivation to visit half of the fifty plus countries that we have traveled to. 

For those of you who celebrate this holiday, regardless of the country you are in, Happy Thanksgiving. 
For those of you who do not celebrate this holiday, I wish you a fabulous day.

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Thursday is for Turkey

Tomorrow is thanksgiving! It is the traditional day for Americans to give thanks for all the bounty within their lives. As children we learn and they still persevere with the tales of the Pilgrims and the Native Americans sitting down to a feast in thanks for the sharing of knowledge. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it is mostly a lie. I didn't learn this myself until I came across the book Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen. After that eye-opener, I continued reading other accounts that put my political correctness into better perspective. Native Americans got the short end from the beginning.

Speaking of Thanksgiving myths that were not unraveled until later in my life, there are other things that are kind of embarrassing, but heck, I will share. I was probably about twenty-five years old before I realized that Thanksgiving didn't start with antipasto, followed by either a pasta e fagioli or a chicken soup with tiny meatballs with homemade pasta shells floating around. It never occurred to me that these didn't precede the turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, green beans, and the lasagne, manicotti, or other pasta dish for everyone's 'traditional' holiday dinner. These were after all staples for Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's (add baccalà for this holiday; it is dried fish that brings good luck for the NY). This was the typical celebratory meal for weddings, christenings, earning an A on your report card, the disappearance of your cold sore, a happy meal for getting the lawn mowed, and so on. However, the end of the Thanksgiving meal was not complete without the homemade pies made of pumpkin, apple, mincemeat, and pecan or ricotta cheese joined by an assortment of an early appearance of homemade Christmas cookies. Added to this foreign assortment, with foreign meaning American recipes, there had to be struffala. Struffala is an Italian cookie made into little balls, piled high and then drenched with honey and colored sprinkles. Is it a wonder I battle my weight?

Having led a sheltered life, there was never an opportunity to have a holiday meal outside the confines of less than two dozen Italians and that was only immediate family. When I was really young, this approached five dozen. My grandmother was one of twelve kids, so the entire family joined in as one. It took close to an hour just filling your plates, plural, with all of the foods the aunts and my grandmother would prepare. My family decided at one point that they needed to let me loose into the outer world during one holiday, so I could get a taste of the harsh reality of life. I learned the cruel facts the hard way; I suffered from culture shock in my own country. When I went to a friend's family for Thanksgiving dinner, the sparse table was only inhabited by a turkey, dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, stuffed mushrooms, green beans, cauliflower, dinner rolls, cranberry sauce. My first thoughts were fear of deprivation followed by streaming thoughts of a starvation sequence. It didn't take a full blooded Neapolitan to figure out that this was just wrong. How do these people survive like this? 

From this time onward, at every holiday, I take a private moment for a minute of silence not only in appreciation for my Italian heritage, but also for the despair of those who have no clue what they are missing.
 

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Chasing Down Turkeys

There is something to be said for being single. You generally get invited to others' homes for the holidays, since no expects a single person to cook. I used to love cooking for the holidays when I had ready access to all of the ingredients that I required, but living abroad gives all new meaning to meal preparations.

This Thursday is the American holiday, Thanksgiving. For a few years, we were lucky. Ron had a fellow docent at the museum who had access to the American Embassy commissary. It is restricted to American employees and their immediate families. She would get us an All-American Butterball turkey. That eliminated the major obstacle, but then there were others that were needed to make a 'traditional' meal. Each year became a bit easier. We are now about to find sweet potatoes and yams at Tesco, for example. 

Just to be on the safe side, I had canned pumpkin and stuffing mix on my wish list. We had four cans of cranberries, but their expiration date was long past. After sending a query to Ask-a-Nutritionist, they responded that they should be tossed; out they went. We do have a guest coming on Thanksgiving morning, so I put in a request and invited him for dinner with us. 

This year, there will be 8 people at our dinner table. Three of them will be strangers. One is our B and B guest, while 2 are friends of the friends we  had last year for dinner. These friends just happen to be arriving on the holiday. They were included in the mix. 

So what about the turkey? Last year, Ron found a poultry butcher that would get us a whole turkey, but it was small. We want a big sucker that weighs in about 14 lbs. For some reason, they think we are foreign crazies to first of all want a whole turkey and then secondly to want one so big. Most people don't have an oven the size needed to cook a turkey whole. That took a long time to realize. For the longest time, I was suspecting that they hatched turkey parts, not turkey chicks. "Oh Zsolt, look at this egg. We are going to have a healthy turkey leg from this one. That egg over there had a nice breast in it. This batch of eggs are producing some sizable parts."

We were going to break down and order our dinner from one of the hotels. In years past, three of them the Marriott, Intercontinental, and the Kempinski all had dinners cooked and delivered on the day at the time you specified. This year, only one has the offer and they are taking advantage of the fact. A turkey dinner for 4 regular diners to 6 anorexics is costing 29,500 Huf. Even with the good exchange rates that is still around $137.00. Sorry, but that is way too much. 

We opted for Culinaris, the gourmet grocery store to cook our turkey with stuffing. We can do all of the rest and we will be thankful for the meal and company. This is one of my favorite holidays. Since my adulthood, I have only had one year that I spent somewhere other than home. I will never do that again. The best part are the leftovers.

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Movie Slurpies

One part about living abroad that I find most unappealing is the holiday season. I used to love the holidays and forty-five boxes of decorations for Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter are sitting in storage. They have been patiently waiting to be rescued again with the adoringly loving reverberations that emerge from my inner child as I unpack them. There are reasons for not having them here. Multiple reasons as a matter of fact: 1). The cost of shipping, 2). No where to store them, 3). No one to show them off to. Yes, number three is the most pathetic, yet true. It is Ron and I period, zip, end of the list. 

The majority of friends we have made over the years have returned from whence they came. Very few Hungarians are amongst our list of friends due to schedules, different lifestyles, and the list goes on. Hence, holidays are not berry merry, especially Christmas.

Feeling blue at this time of year is not only the pending holiday, but the temperatures outside. This has already been a a particularly cold December that rushed in on the heels of a moderate November. With a feeling that my inner child has been snatched by a Child Protective Services agency, I have tried to gobble on Christmas movies like a child who has been set free in a toy store with an American Express Platinum card in some stranger's name. I am not certain if they are a positive aid or a negative encumbrance, but at least for 30 minutes to 1 1/2 hours at a time, I feel the holiday spirit. Here is my list.

Getting away for the holidays paves the way for getting through some of the winter while also white washing those days of Christmas youth when I thought holiday magic was everlasting.

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Black Friday - Old Memories

Traditionally in the US, the day after Thanksgiving is the busiest shopping day of the year. The term originated as this was the day that retailers turned their red ink or losses during the year into the black profit margins.

When we lived in CA, this was our tradition. We headed out early in the morning and drove to a gigantic Christmas Fair in the foothills of Sonora. Entry was $3, but if you brought a can of food for the homeless shelters, you only had to pay $2. 

After spending hours at that fair making sure we covered every single merchant, we drove on to historic Jamestown, a former gold rush town. Jamestown combines history with holiday making it magical at Christmas time. Depending on our time, we may or may not have stopped at Columbia, another gold rush era historic village. 

On the way home, we stopped at an uneventful strip mall, because they had a wonderful, non-chain bookstore. I was not looking for books per se, but they had wonderful bookends that were never in other stores. They also had an unusual array of gift items. We did our best to make it a Black Friday.

Living in Budapest, the only way we could supplement the day is to go to the Christmas Fair here. We trudged out into the cold black night at 5:15 pm just to visit the same old-same old. After ten years, you can map out each and every booth and vendor. Surprise! There were three new booths this year, throwing off the schematic for all of the rest. 

Even here, they opened the fair non-traditionally early, on November 19th. In years past, the first day of Advent found the booths uncovering their goods. It was packed with people, but the hot wine could have been the main attraction in the cold. 

Later this evening, we had our first snow. Earlier than years past, the snowflakes looked barely formed they were so diminutive. It stuck to car tops, but the streets are just wet. My hopes are for no more snow until after the 19th of December when we skip town.

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Stuffed Like the Turkey

Appropriately giving thanks to a number of contributors, our Thanksgiving meal was a success. We had a fresh turkey that Ron had to hunt down in the markets. Fresh whole turkeys are an anomaly here, except for Christmas.

As tradition dictates, I prepared my hot artichoke dip and pumpkin soup. Tom or Tillie turkey shared the dinner table with sweet potatoes (from Melissa and Scott), green beans (Shana), rolls (Laszlo), and my stuffed mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. 

Never, leaving the dinner table, we reminisced years past recalling all of the different guests we have shared Thanksgivings with since living here. We have never celebrated alone and we always give thanks for that. 

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Thanksgiving

Well, today is Thanksgiving and today, just like the last eight Thanksgivings, I have to go to work. I am always in awe when I see how many others are at work today too. You would think more of them would take off for the holidays, but if I happen to have to run to the grocery store, it is not shocking to have to wait in a long line to check out. I know they must be getting last minute holiday preparations just as I am. 


This Thanksgiving, we will have the most traditional feasts of our ex-pat life thanks to generous guests who brought us some food items and a grateful thanks to a student Barbara Pap who carted a bunch of things on my wish list back with her on her last US excursion. 


We were successful in ordering a whole turkey, but the size was like winning the lottery. We had no idea how much of it we would get. They said it would be between 4-16 kilos. Another words, a super size me chicken or a Macy's Thanksgiving Day float. 


Ron made the pumpkin pies last night. I prepared the artichoke dip, pumpkin soup, and stuffed mushrooms. When I get home from work, we can stuff the bird and pop it in the oven, peel the potatoes and set the table. The only thing missing is getting to watch the parade on TV.


Our dinner guests Melissa and her husband Scott, plus a friend of theirs and our friend Laszlo will be here to share the meal. 

My student Arpad sent this holiday greeting, so I am sharing it with you. Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it wherever you are.

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Turkey Technology

An article appeared in my mailbox explaining how social media can aid one in planning their perfect Thanksgiving holiday festivities. For the non-American readers, tomorrow is the US holiday of Thanksgiving. The traditional day when we share with loved ones the things that we are thankful for that we seldom think of verbalizing the rest of the year. It is kind of a national day of atonement.

The historical events were really rather grizzly, but we are taught that everyone "just got along swell and dressed up in their best native costumes". Few of us break from the reality since we, unlike other countries do not have a culture of fables and fairy tales, so we have to take what we can get.  This story is as pasteurized as the milk we drink, but we do rejoice in  celebrating this holiday. 

Within modern history, it is the busiest day of the year for air travel, causing many turkeys who did not escape the clever to have the electric carving knife held at bay until Uncle Bobo's late departing plane arrives.


How the Pilgrims managed to get the feast ready without technology is beyond me. Without GPS, how did the Native Americans find their way to the table? Without Facebook, how could Pilgrim Annie inform Pilgrim Sarah there was a bushel of corn waiting in Farmville? What drudgery they slaved through. Oh, right. Slaves came later. My bad.


Well for we modern folk who need the tools to plan, let's start with a holiday menu planner that spits out recipe ideas after you fill in the blanks. This comes in handy if you are shooting blanks when trying to think on your own. If you have fussy eaters or special diets to cater to, this site may be your salvation.


Are you sick of doing it all yourself? When you want help in the kitchen, get others involved with SignUpGenius for potluck contributions. If you really want to have fun, send it out to total strangers and see who/what appears at your door. Add a note that it is BYOC - bring your own chair and please shower first.


Feeling lazy or stressed? Perhaps the local market or restaurant has prepared meals to go. Try a site I have written for at Gayot to find an eatery near you.


Don't forget holiday decor. You can do a fast Google search for Thanksgiving crafts. These will keep the kids out of your hair while you baste the turkey.


Don't forget the smart phone to check on airline delays, get directions, send SMS messages, all without leaving the kitchen to run to the computer. 


When all is done and everyone but the turkey is stuffed, relax to a game of turkey trivia.

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One Reason Why I Love My Students

Today, I had a private lesson with my one and only private student. Before I left his place, he took green leaves out of the refrigerator and asked me what the vegetable was in English. 

I had no clue what it was. Smelling it, it smelled similar to scallions, but the leaves were open and broader yet only about 6 inches long. I thought maybe some time of leek, but there was no bulb at the end, only the greenery. 

For years, we rarely found celery here. What we found was celery root, but not the stalks. Around our 3rd Thanksgiving, we came across a pitiful stalk of celery in one supermarket and cringed as we paid close to $5.oo for it. We used it for the stuffing for the turkey. Many have told us that the stalks are fed to pigs.

These greens that Janos was showing me, made me suspect that they really cut away tossed the good part. It is only available for a short 6 week growing season. I had him write it down in Hungarian - medvehagyma. I know medve is bear, hagyma is onion, but this did not provide any clues to the English name.

My first year of teaching here, I set up a Yahoo group that all American Studies students had to join. Many moaned and groaned at the time, but I have received a zillion thanks since then. They communicate about everything as a system. The newer Bologna students have the option, but most do not want to be bothered. 

So, I sent out one e-mail asking what medvehagyma was in English. Within an hour, I had 27 responses giving me websites, translations, and so on. For the unknowing, it is called bear's garlic (not onion) in English, but also wild garlic, and ramson. I have never heard of it, never seen it before, and obviously never tasted it. The joys of teaching is learning something new every day. Today, not only did I learn about a plant, but the generosity of students, some of the responders were those I have never taught. They were my teaching partner's 'kids'.

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