I Gave It Big

I was full before the deep fried turkey made it to the table. It's hard to save your appetite for the main course when unplanned appetizers mysteriously pop up on our table of plenty.

Upon entering Sis' kitchen, a large, baked ham sat on the counter while Sis readied the mushroom gravy for the turkey. Awaiting on the dining room table was a beautifully prepared platter of fruit of many colours and textures. There were also three big slabs of pate with six kinds of crackers beside a warm, smooth, and pungent artichoke-cheese dip. Warm, red mussels smeared with citrus and cocktail sauce beckoned from their half shells. Chunks of crusty bread taunted from their bowl. None of this was planned. Unlike the humongous platter of crab legs and bigger half-table of sushi. I mean, at least crab legs and sushi were on the menu, just not their overwhelming quantity.

But the highlight of the meal was the deep fried turkey. Far in the back of the garden over the ice covered walkway were Bro and Waif, manning a propane-fed deep fryer. The deep fryer had to be at least 10 feet away from the house in case of mishap resulting in explosion. If this had happened, only Bro and Waif would have been broiled alive in boiling oil, the house would have been fine. The crispy-skinned turkey was sizzling in deep oil. French fries, stringed yams, and Scotch eggs waited their turn to soak in their bubbling bath of hot hot oil.

Bro and Waif cooked till it got dark, receiving visits from The Man, me, and other curious onlookers. When Uncle and his family arrived, everything was ready. A green salad, a papaya-avocado salad, green beans speckled with red pepper, garlic and thyme, mashed roasted squash with butter and brown sugar, cauliflower with buttered almonds, cranberry and sausage stuffing, chicken and shrimp fried noodles, and smoked turkey legs also made their way onto the dining table. Were they all part of the menu? It didn't matter any more at that point.

It was all good. I tried not to eat too much. I don't remember. I fell asleep on the couch at some point.

There is no lesson to this excess. But I am reminded of a song by Jane Siberry where the last part goes:

Take a lesson from the strangeness you feel
And know you'll never be the same
And find it in your heart to kneel down and say
I gave my love didn't I?
And I gave it big...sometimes
And I gave it in my own sweet time

Jane was singing about love, not food. But in our family, love and food, they are the same. I surrender.