Coming Home

Thanksgiving! HooHaa! If there is a holiday that feels more like home you could have fooled me. Christmas? Maybe if you are a Kardasian and narcissistic consumption is your religion. July 4? It's hard to go wrong with cookouts and bombs, but the nationalism can be a little more 3rd Reich than Bob Vila. (Does anyone remember Bob Vila?) Easter? Torture, death, zombies, and chocolate eggs, it's sort of like my family gatherings but I'm looking for something a little warmer. New Years? No day that involves puking need apply. Valentines? Ditto ( does anyone remember ditto machines?) for any day that bums out as many people as it makes happy. Nope Thanksgiving is the best.

Thanksgiving! Heehaw!

We need thanksgiving, because we need "Home". Sore loser Republicans are right, "It's not your grandpa's, Hell, it's not your pa's America anymore." I find this mostly a good thing; no need to bring back racism, sexism, the cold war... I could go on but you get my point. But the new America comes with its' own set of problems. Nothing feels like home anymore. On the job front you are averaging 13.3 jobs over your lifetime . As far as residences go the number is around 16. At these rates can you even recognize the woman sitting across from you at the breakfast table? I'm not even going to mention your 600 friends on facebook because nobody has 600 real friends. You have nothing anchoring you to a place, you bop around more than an aborigine during a drought, and you are backed up with "friends" that you wouldn't recognize if they were sitting next to you. That's not home, thats a Dali painting.

Although it does remind me of my 9th birthday party.

When I was a wee lad my Dad was a high school principal, but not in the town where we lived. Every Thanksgiving he would take me to the football game and we would watch the action from a school window. At half time we would go down to the field, mingle with the crowd, have a hot dog, but while the game was going on it was just me and Dad. I didn't get much one on one time with the old boy as a kid, there were 3 other brothers to compete with and a whole school full of youths that required his attention, but if I close my eyes and just breath my mind can conjure up every way those Thanksgivings felt. It felt like home. Too bad I got older and wanted to go to my hometown Thanksgiving games. He was waiting in the car when I told him I was going with the guys. He was cool, and a few years later he came to watch me (every game for 4 years) when I played myself, but that was really the last time me and Pop had something that was just for the 2 of us. Time flies, the world changes.

A million years later I was doing political work with a friend of mine when he introduced me to a bunch of younger, hopelessly progressive, not yet cynical group of democrats. One of them lived with a bunch of other late 20s post grads in a big rambling house in Somerville. They called it the Wilfred because that was what was printed on the doorknobs. The first thing you noticed was that the whole place smelled of books. I liked everyone well enough but I tend to be a rules guy and it seemed like I was too old to just hang there. Didn't want to be the creepy old guy. Well it turns out that the place had been a revolving group home for young adults for 20 years and every year they cooked a turkey and had a pot-luck and partied like it was 1968. I was persuaded to show up for parts 1 and 2 with the intention of leaving the partying to the young-uns. Turns out that no-one knew how to make gravy, or fix the kitchen lamp (I didn't either but it got me involved), or control my friend who was also too old but definitely not a rules guy.

Great meal!

So I made gravy, took a shot at the lamp, kept P from running amok and had a really great time. I went there for 4 more Thanksgivings until Tufts bought the place, kicked everyone out, and gutted it for housing. Everyone scattered literally across the globe, but it turns out the only rule about age was in my head, so if I close my eyes and just breath my mind can taste the gravy, smell the books and conjure up every way those Thanksgivings felt. It felt like home.

There are other things that make me feel that way. There was Rolling Green, The 466, Harwich house, Mark's, Meadow Ln, Oscar's, Mad River... many places, many circumstances, but always that sense that there is a place where you belong in this world. If modern times denies us one definitive spot in geographic space hadn't we better embrace the home that we can carry with us, that pops up in our path? When a pot luck comes your way go with it. We all need as much home as we can get.

Now when you get invited to a pot luck if you are the new kid you are probably going to get stuck bringing a vegetable. Face it, the host is going to be all about the meat, dessert is too important to leave to chance, nobody knows how to cook anymore so everybody will be backed up with salad,  vegetables it is. Now the important thing to remember about vegetables is that people don't really like them, but with a little thought you can make veggies taste great while removing all that nasty nutritional value.

It even looks like dessert.

Now if you are a punk you can just make the version from the Campbell's cream of mushroom soap can. People will eat it, some of those less fortunate than you will actually jones for it, but you are trying to create a "Home" moment and pre-made slop, no matter how tasty, does not say home. Put a little effort into it. Part of what gives things that extra edge that says "home" is effort.

1. Start by blanching a couple of fistfuls of fresh green beans. You know the drill if you have been reading this blog. Clean the beans, boil for 3 minutes, plunge into cold water to stop the cooking. Are they a vivid green with a nice snap to them? Good job!
2. Clean and slice a package of button mushrooms. Fry them in butter, Mmmm butter! (2 tablespoons full) until they give up their liquid and start to brown. Remove them to a bowl.
3. Cut a large onion in half then slice thin. Fry the onion in 2 tablespoons full of butter, Mmmm butter! until they turn golden.
4. Add some minced garlic, 2 or 3 cloves, fry for 30 seconds.
5. If things are looking dry add 2 more tablespoons of butter, Mmmm butter! and when it melts 2 tablespoons of flour.
6. Work it in the pan for at least 2 minutes to get the raw taste out of the flour.
7. Add whole mile, 1/2 and 1/2 would be better, stirring the whole while. Get it to a gravy consistency or the second cook will make it gummy. Gummy is always a bad idea.
8. Add the mushrooms and stir.
9. Add a serious pinch of salt+ other flavor enhancers. Soy sauce? Worcestershire? Noc ma? Tabasco? Sirracha? Go nuts.
10. Add a tablespoon full of chopped fresh thyme and stir.
11. Add the green beans. Mix well then find an attractive casserole that will hold the whole mess. Butter it, Mmmm butter! then add the beans.
12. Cover with foil and bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes.
13. Now Funonions in a can are just fine, but what would be better is if you know a restaurant that makes good onion rings. Buy an order while you are transferring the cool casserole to your pot luck home activity. 
14. You have to reheat this bad boy so check with your host then pop it into a 350 oven after you spread the onion rings over the top.
15. When the onions are brown and the rest is bubbly pull it out of the oven. Unlike mashed potatoes this stuff will taste good even if it is not screaming hot so don't sweat it if people don't start eating right away.
16. High-five your new family.