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Holiday Heaven
In the Kitchen With Grandma By Carol Greenberg
When my two granddaughters overheard my daughter-in-law's mother, Reli, and me discussing the menu for our holiday dinner they asked if they could help. Our immediate answer was, "Of course!"
Having had years of cooking experience I knew that working together in the kitchen could be a wonderful way of bonding and building close association with a younger generation. My own two sons will testify to that. For some reason, while stirring the soup, talking about problems becomes easier. Plus, I knew it would be great fun to have the girls in the kitchen with us.
Thanksgiving morning our 6-year-old granddaughter put on her apron, anxious and ready – but we had to prod our teenage granddaughter out of bed if she was going to help. She reluctantly left her cozy bed and asked why we couldn't have dinner at 7 o'clock instead of 4 o'clock.
The turkey had been defrosted the night before and was almost ready for the oven. I rinsed it thoroughly and when I put my hand inside the cavity to remove the giblets and neck, both girls exclaimed, "Oh, gross!"
I purposely exposed the heart of the turkey and we had a biology lesson by showing the girls that the heart was just like ours with its shape, ventricles, blood vessels and all. Reli prepared the honey-mustard dressing and let the girls do the spreading, which was a bit on the messy side, and we slid the turkey into the oven.
Ordinarily I would have made the chicken stock for the soup, but this day I opened three large cans of chicken broth, a can of chopped tomatoes, one large package of mixed vegetables and a few choice soup greens.
Now that the soup was ready for heating, Ellie, our youngest helper, decided it was better to prepare dessert. Pecan pie and pumpkin pies were our choices, but Ellie wanted cupcakes with lots of chocolate icing. No problem! We baked cupcakes and when they cooled we let Ellie spread the chocolate icing and, of course, lick the bowl.
Soon, we discovered time was marching on and we had to work more quickly. Reli basted the turkey, the cans of cranberry sauce were opened, onions peeled and diced and ready to saut矷ith the mushrooms and green beans. While all the preparation was going on I told the story of how I helped my mother prepare a holiday dinner and the girls were wide eyed as I told them that we did not have frozen vegetables, or for that matter, a freezer. There was no such thing as chicken soup in a can and we had to cook our own cranberries. It was agreed that I grew up in the middle ages. It was nothing compared to Reli's story.
