Although I’ve loved my Thanksgiving memories with our huge extended family and friends, I remember the quieter ones with just our six-person nuclear family. That’s when we did Thanksgiving our way. No turkey and no traditional sides. Not as a statement. We simply had other dishes that brought us to a place of gratitude, reflection, and comfort. My favorite was a big pot of gallina pinta — a simple Sonoran stew with very few ingredients as old and indigenous to the Americas as the turkey, potatoes, cranberries, and corn on the other tables across the US that evening.
While we waited for the magic of the salt, hominy, pinto beans, ox-tail, and a few other spices to come together, I threw on the Yeha-Noha and other Native songs (in gratitude to the people who shared their food way back when) — no TV or video games allowed. And we sat at the table and talked and talked, and told stories, discussed, played a few board games, and talked and listened some more. I learned so much about the towns and pueblitos my parents came from, and how things were once done, which brought me to a place of gratitude for progress, but also a little longing for the deliberateness of a slower pace and true learning from listening to one another. We didn’t even have to agree.
Evan Kleiman said something in her Good Food newsletter, and that is to take a breath and “Be actually thankful for the support you have around you and acknowledge the little blessings that food and friends give us. The ordinary is precious.” I hope you’re able to approach your Thanksgiving table without dread next week. Be patient. We have to be able to talk and listen. You can always get sleepy early 😉.
Connie
Your KCRW Insider since 2001
P.S. If you’ll be standing on your driveway doing long goodbyes and you happen to be leaning against your old clunker, make a mental note for as soon as your guests leave — Donate your car to KCRW! We could use it to keep bringing you all the stories and things you probably just talked about during your dinner!
Once, while helping plan a potluck at work, someone said, “What about the people who don’t eat meat?” and like an oaf, I cheerily said, “There’ll be plenty of sides!” Well, one of my favorite colleagues, who I’d never seen get angry, said, “No. Why are we always stuck with sides?” Oof. I felt his second-class potluck pain and pictured myself on a perpetual party diet of chips, potato salad, and cantaloupe. I learned a lesson. If you’re going to do it, do it right (no one said perfect) so everyone feels thought of. Here are some great plant-based mains, sides, and everything in between for a delicious vegetarian or vegan holiday meal. Check out the recipes, and warning — if you’re having omnivore friends over, you may want to double up on ingredients because as you know, we’ll eat our food and all of yours too! Rude, I know.
And now for side dishes! These are actually my favorite. Is it because I’ve had plenty of dry turkey and the sides come in clutch? Maybe. But I do feel like sides allow us to get creative and not always rely on a hunk of meat. We play with flavors, simple and complex, we pay more attention to veggies, fruit, and grains, and we bring out some of the kitchen gadgets we’ve bought but never used…or is that just me and my spiralizer, pineapple corer, herb stripper, cake pop maker,avocado slicer,taco shell holder...?
’Tis the season for friends, family, food, drinks, and merriment. Central to all these festivities are the traditions that bind us together — but also make us unique. Whether it’s grinning-and-bearing grandma’s special Jell-O, searching for the Christmas pickle, or leaving an ice-cold glass of beer out for Santa Claus, we’ve all got them. So we want to hear from you: What unusual traditions do you or your friends and family hold dear? Which do you hate, or begrudgingly go along with? How did they start, and how did they become a tradition? Let us know above, and we may feature you in an upcoming Greater LA episode. Um, Christmas pickle?
Oliver Burkeman, journalist and author of Four Thousand Weeks; Time Management for Mortals, explores our relationship with time and the modern obsession with time management, efficiency, and making the most of this valuable resource. Depressing as it may sound, Burkeman says, the average person has about 4,000 weeks. Drawing on history and philosophy, Burkeman offers a sane and sensible approach to how we spend our time, and suggests that we “not buy into the idea that more and more efficiency, and processing more and more tasks, is the path to happiness.” Okay, but I really wish he hadn’t told me about 4,000 measly weeks!
In the 12 years since UCLA Professor Justin Torres’ We the Animals was published (to rave reviews and a movie adaptation), he’s been doing research for his latest novel Blackouts, which just won the National Book Award. “One of the things that happened with We the Animals is that I got so lucky with that book. I was invited to all kinds of places to talk about Latinx literature, queer literature, all different kinds of literary traditions. And a couple of months before … nobody had ever heard of me. Then there was this instantaneous expectation that I would be able to expound and have some kind of expertise … and I wanted to grow into that role. But it was going to take time,” says Torres. “So many of us just walk around dealing with so much stigma and so much shame and not understanding. One of the things that the book [Blackouts] is interested in is this difference between stigma and shame: That which is put upon you and that which you internalize.”
This holiday season, I’m really hoping to use a few of what’s left of my 4,000 weeks to do some reading. I think I’ll start with We the Animals, but more recommendations are welcome please, and thank you.
"The only good thing my ex-husband ever did was introduce me to KCRW back in 1994. Got rid of that deadbeat but held on to you, KCRW. Love you guys! I’ll never divorce you!" – Marion (Koreatown)