Gratitude and A Recipe

I grew up with my grandmother’s Cranberry Jello Salad, which every year my brother and I would leave untouched on our salad plates. Then, the first time I went to Thanksgiving with my husband’s family, I was given a job. This job was to make Strawberry Pretzel Jello Salad.

This threw me for a loop.

Thanksgiving Code Switching is required when you get married. Things you thought were essential to Thanksgiving turn out not to be – whether you hate those things or love them. One of my husband’s grandmothers does not make stuffing, which I did not imagine was possible for a North American grandmother. My dad dishes out every plate from the head of the Thanksgiving table, Norman Rockwell style, which my husband had to get used to because his family serves everything democratic and buffet-style.

Thanksgiving is a Day of Shock for a while. But then you start to like having Chocolate Pie (me at the Friebergs) at Thanksgiving. Or you like the fresh taste of a green salad (Adam at the Haverkamps) alongside all those other heavy, creamy foods.

We can say: “I’m thankful for shelter, clothing, family, food, and friends.” But maybe it’s more useful to say, “I’m grateful to be surprised by jello salad.”

And then you notice that you’re grateful for a day off, for gravy and pumpkin pie, and that amazing corn casserole your husband’s family makes.

Then, instead of noticing, as I do daily, what’s wrong, or what I could’ve done better, or what there is to be worried about, there’s this day to just be, and to eat good food I only eat once a year, with these people who hug me and put up with me. And this life I have.

Here’s my favorite recipe from Adam’s family’s Thanksgivings:

Iowa Corn Casserole

1 17 oz can of creamed corn
1 17 oz can of regular corn
1 box of Jiffy corn mix
1/2 cup melted butter
1 beaten egg
8 oz sour cream

Stir together and bake for one hour at 350 degrees.  The top needs to start cracking to be done. (Janette Fiedler)