My mother has done it again.
Sigh.
Here we are, a week before Thanksgiving, and my mother called me today to discuss her plans.
If you’ve been a longtime reader of The Mistress of The Mix, you may recall that two years ago I finally had a chance to cook a Thanksgiving feast.
It was a big deal.
My husband and I relished in the opportunity to cook a turkey, make my world famous mashed potatoes and gravy, the whole thing. And it was wonderful. I was so thankful that year!
The only reason this happened was because my mother was out of town. (To her credit, she was acting as nursemaid to my little sister, who was recuperating from a double mastectomy.)
And then there was last year, when Eddie and I wanted to cook the Thanksgiving dinner again, now that mom was back in town to enjoy it. But no, she insisted on having the local supermarket deli cook the entire meal for us. The turkey, the potatoes, the gravy, everything. Our only consolation was that we insisted on cooking the pies.
Apple, peach and mincemeat. We hit a home run, ask anyone who was there.
Cut to this morning, when my mom called to tell me that this year, she’s decided to break away from the norm.
For about a half a second, I was thrilled.
I’ve been getting emails for weeks from all the foodie websites I hang out on, with titles like The Best Thanksgiving Side Dishes Of All Time! and Yummiest Mashed Potatoes Ever!
I was up for this. I was ready to impress!
I imagined myself cooking all my favorite Thanksgiving dishes! Fresh green beans sautéed in butter and fresh garlic, Mama Stamberg’s cranberry relish, a turkey covered in thin slices of lemon, corn on the cob, fresh baked bread smothered in salted butter, mashed garlic potatoes, and of course my lump free amazing gravy. Oh, the gravy! It was gonna be awesome!
Then she dropped a bomb on me.
By breaking away from the norm, my mom meant that she had decided to try switching things up by getting the entire meal pre-cooked from Trader Joe’s.
So let me just say right now, right here, in front of everyone, I hereby stake a claim on next year’s Thanksgiving. I’ve got dibs. Because I’ve got recipes.
And in the meantime, I’ve cooked up a musical Thanksgiving feast for you, complete with the turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, extra green beans, corn on the cob, stuffing, lots and lots of fresh baked bread and butter, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, wild rice, and I even managed to find some Cranberries! Of course it wouldn’t be a thanksgiving feast without pumpkin pie with whipped cream and a couple of glasses of red wine. But it all begins by saying grace, and ends with a Thanksgiving prayer. I hope you enjoy!
Enjoy this playlist by clicking on the play arrow, above. Or go directly to Grooveshark.
- Say Grace – Babette Hayward
- Turkey In The Straw – Buck Owens & Roy Clark
- Bread & Butter – Hugo
- Red Wine, Mistakes & Mythology – Jack Johnson
- Turkey Dubstep – The Dubstep Turkeys
- Gravy – Dee Dee Sharp
- Mashed Potatoes – Rufus Thomas
- Bread & Butter – Newbeats
- Where’s My Gravy – Steve Lucky & The Rhumba Bums
- Soul Dressing – Booker T. & The MGs
- Green Beans – Nils Landgren Funk Unit
- Green Beans – Chad Van Gaalen
- My Sweet Potato – Booker T. & The MGs
- Sweet Potato – Sia
- Bread & Wine – Josh Garrels
- Butternut Squash – Biotron Shelf
- Butternut – Tommy Guerrero
- Corn on the Cob – Jean-Jacques Perrey
- Linger – The Cranberries
- Pumpin Pie – California Honey Drops
- Whipped Cream – Herb Alpert & Tijuana Brass
- Celebrate Wild Rice – Sacred Spirit
- A Prayer of Thanksgiving – Richard Clayderman
- Thanksgiving – George Winston
Valerie Ing-Miller has been the Northern California Program Coordinator for Jefferson Public Radio in Redding for nine years and can often be found serving as Mistress of Ceremonies at the Cascade Theatre. For her, ultimate satisfaction comes from a perfect segue. She’s the mother of a teenage daughter and a 7-year-old West Highland Terrier, and can’t imagine life without them or music. Valerie wakes up with a song in her head, she sings in the shower and at the top of her lungs in the car.
