Given that my entire extended family lives less than an hour from one another in the Philadelphia area, every major holiday is celebrated in the Philadelphia area. So when I moved to Washington DC after college, it was always a given that I would return to Philadelphia for the holidays. Visiting me in DC was never discussed. Why would the family drive 3 hours to stuff four people into my shoebox apartment when they could drive one hour to cram 20 people into someone else's shoebox basement?
See, I never quite understood the logic, either. I just chalked it up to tradition. Every year, we went to my mother's parents house for Thanksgiving. Every year, we went to my father's parents house for Christmas Eve. Every year, my mother welcomed the family for Christmas Day. And every year, we would head back to her parents' house for New Year's Day. As my grandparents passed away and aged, we swapped their homes for the homes of my aunts and uncles. And in the past 14 years since I went away to college, my parents started alternating Thanksgiving between my mother's family and my father's family. They're really stirring the pot these days!
Once I moved to San Francisco, I stopped making the trip all the time. Not because the airfare was too expensive, or because I didn't want to see everyone, but because I had developed another family of my own in the city with whom I enjoyed spending the holidays. One year, Amanda and I baked a 20+ pound turkey and then carried it three blocks to our friend's house for a huge feast with 30 people sitting around picnic tables in the backyard. We drank and ate and played Guitar hero until 2AM.
Another year, Amanda and I spent Christmas Eve snowboarding in Tahoe. When we finally quit the mountain, we celebrated with cheap beers and a dinner of M&Ms while playing Poker with our friend Steve. We were so drunk we didn't realize that we were playing with Pinocle cards until both Amanda and Steve went all in thinking they each had four Aces. That was a crazy game of Poker.
Since Jeremy and I began dating, we have spent years traveling to see all of our families for the holidays. (Exhausting) And we have also welcomed our friends in San Francisco into our home for Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day. However this year, my parents, along with my brother, packed their bags and boarded a plane to Los Angeles to spend Thanksgiving in our new home in Santa Monica. Yes, it is still a shoebox apartment; so unfortunately, they couldn't sleep here. But they stayed at a hotel a few blocks away, I gave them a key, and they were able to come and go as they pleased for five nights.
Jeremy still had to go to work, and I still had to go to school, so my mother and brother did some LA sightseeing while my father tried something new and went golfing. (Right...) We convened for dinner each night, and on Thanksgiving, Jeremy and I prepared an amazing feast. Granted, it is a well-known fact in our family that Jeremy and I are fantastic in the kitchen, but the satisfaction I get from serving a truly delicious meal for my parents is almost unmatched.
We prepared everything from scratch using organic ingredients...
First Course: Roasted Garlic and Sun-dried Tomato Hummus, Honey Thyme Brie Cheese, Assorted Crackers
Second Course: Black Bean Pumpkin Soup
Third Course: Cider-glazed Turkey with Lager Gravy, Fennel Sausage and Jalapeno Stuffin’ Muffins, Creme Fraiche and Chive Mashed Potatoes, Whipped Chipotle Sweet Potatoes, Brussels Sprout Hash with Caramelized Shallots, Green Beans with Mushrooms and Balsamic, Creamed Corn Pudding, Cranberry-Fig-Pinot Noir Chutney, Zucchini Cornbread
Dessert Course: Pumpkin Pie with Spiced Walnut Streusel, Lattice Apple Pie, Vanilla Bean Ice Cream
It was amazing! And although cooking so much was exhausting, I hope we can host our family and friends for Thanksgiving next year, as well. We plan to have a larger living space next year, so if anyone wants to visit us in LA, please come!
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