Tofurkey Blues

I am considering breaking up with Thanksgiving. Not that I don't love it. I do. For goodness sake, it is a holiday all about food, and people and love and gratitude. There are pumpkins involved, and sweet potatoes, and (if you are lucky) a Tofurkey. I love that it is such a cozy day. Yet, on that day, one of the most traditional days we have, I realized that I have rarely celebrated Thanksgiving the same way twice. I am not getting what I need from Thanksgiving. It is just not treating me right, and I am starting to take it personally. I think I fell in love with the potential of the day, and of course that never works out the way I want it to.

They have been fun, don't get me wrong, the Thanksgivings of my past. There was the one in Santa Fe, where none of us really knew how to cook. Or the time at the farm when I couldn't wait and we had Thanksgiving in September. Oh, and in Napa, we ate Thanksgiving dinner outside- so gorgeous. My aunt's Thanksgiving menu reads like the finest restaurant in Eden. I have barged in on several other families' Thanksgiving dinners, hoping to get that thing- that beginning of winter, this is what Thanksgiving is all about, here are our family food stories thing. And those families are always so gracious and willing to share those things- but they are not mine. And, if I can't claim them, I don't think I want to chase them anymore. So this year, (thank goodness) we going to Mexico, where there is no Tofurkey, but there is family. And this one is mine. Maybe Thanksgiving and I will reconcile one day. I do hope so. But this year I think I will be happy to get some sun, drink tequila and shout Spanish war cries with my peeps instead. Viva con viva!