When I was growing up, a big turkey dinner was the New Year´s Day meal. A new thirty pound turkey and its trimmings, already enjoyed a week earlier on Christmas Day, would be on the table again, everything from whole cranberries in a sweet red sauce to bowls of hot dressing that had just been extracted from the cavity of the bird. Gravy boats were passed around the table and poured liberally into wells prepared in the middle of creamy mashed potatoes. I liked the sides of my well to be high enough to contain all of the gravy.
My mother had a dining room set that was used once a week for Sunday dinner when I was growing up. That would have been the table that we ate on. I know the lines of it well, having dusted the cross bar under the table as well as its ornate table legs many times as a child.
The linens were kept in the drawers of the side buffet. The doilies were in a drawer kept between two large pieces of carbboard, covered with a pink fabric onto which a woman in a flowing dress had been cross-stitched. There was a pad and then a table cloth added to the top of the table, for what is a meal without a spill, and that pad kept some of the dampness of of the beautiful wood underneath.
The silverware for 12 was in a large case in the buffet and there was something special about putting away the long-handled spoons that had smaller bowls on the ends, ones that held much less than a teaspoon at the end of them. Those spoons must have been used for the dessert which on Christmas Day and New Year´s Day would have been Christmas pudding. The brown sugar sauce that was poured over the white sauce was my favorite part of the dessert, and by me, the only part that was consumed. The white sauce, made from mixing icing sugar into butter sat on top of the pudding.
I like Chriswtmas pudding now, although I like it two or three hours after Christmas dinner is over. Half way through a big meal like this, my mother would say, ¨Oh, I forgot the sweet potatoes. They are still in the oven,¨ and she would grab a hot pad and rush for them. They were then presented at the table, added to plates that already needed sideboards.
Today, bon appetit to all.
Arta
Memorable traditions from my past at the table of Arta include ....
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b) Evenings learning about other cultures as we sampled divine dishes from China one night, Lebanon another, Ethiopia, Italian to name a few. We were encouraged to try the utensils or lack of utenstils used in these cultures. My chopstick confidence began to be high, but I continue to look too western in my dextetiry with my fingers too close to the bottom of the sticks. How did she make these meals, research the cultures, and keep 8 children (plus friends who spontaneously joined us) entertained and engaged in these unfamiliar exercises. With patience and a lot of humour I recall.