Thanksgiving blues

(Yes, I know it was yesterday. Bear with me.)

When I was growing up, my parents always had a combined Thanksgiving/ birthday dinner party, my father’s birthday being on December 2nd.

When I moved to Paris as a student, the other American students in the foyer and I would celebrate Thanksgiving together. We would each cook one dish that was a family tradition or specialty, make toasts about what we were thankful for, and it was a lot of fun. Even though for a lot of people it was their first holiday away from home, they were in Paris ! We were all so young and giddy and everything was possible and we felt like grown ups. It was a lovely time.

Then I got a job working in a restaurant/grocery store/catering business called, guess what, Thanksgiving, and on Thanksgiving itself I worked, but then on the following Sunday the staff would all have a great Thanksgiving meal together and be thankful that the busiest time of the year was over.

Even after I stopped working there, I would still have the post-Thanksgiving meal there with the owners, who are good friends, and staff past and present. Again, a lot of fun. Interesting to see what people had become some years after working there, and there was always someone’s American friend visiting from somewhere who of course should not be left alone on Thanksgiving, and the more the merrier, and someone’s new French girlfriend or boyfriend who had no idea what Thanksgiving is and had to have it all explained to them. (The only day in the year where Americans eat as well as the French, according to Art Buchwald).

This year I was at a bit of a loss. My restaurant-owning friends have decided not to host a post-Thanksgiving party this year because they are just too tired of turkey.

All my other American friends have moved away, either back to the US, or elsewhere.

S, who is English, very nicely offered to roast a chicken for us, but I said no. The point of Thanksgiving for me isn’t in the roast fowl, but in a big table full of friends, making toasts both funny and sentimental, eating far too much and perhaps drinking a wee bit too much as well.

So we ended up deep frying wonton dumplings for dinner (which were delicious but the apartment now reeks of grease), and going to see a silly French comedy, and I told S how thankful I was to have him in my life.

Not a bad evening, far from it, but not Thanksgiving.

Next year I will have a dinner party and turkey and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie.