In a vegetarian household, Thanksgiving can be a tricky holiday. From a food perspective, this is a day centered on meat — an oversized bird typically raised on a farm, though wild turkey is indigenous in parts of this country. If you live near me you’ll see them foraging in the woods from time-to-time.
Most folks expect the dinner plate on Thanksgiving to feature some form of turkey — homemade pumpkin ravioli or a savory vegetable gratin may not suffice as the main course. Don’t waste your energy. Save those dishes for the weekend.
I find it somewhat puzzling since friends quite often confess they don’t care for turkey much. It can be dry and tough, something only excessive amounts of gravy will remedy. But take it from the plate on Thanksgiving, and you’re met with all sorts of objections. And desperate last-minute offers to tackle the bird.
So, as I say, Thanksgiving can be tricky in a vegetarian household. I know since I live in one. Generally we head to the home of friends who cook the bird, while we concentrate on creating some really superb vegetables, but every now and then we host at our house. On those occasions we prepare a lush spread full of flavor, and featuring the bounty of the season. No one really misses the turkey — though suggest a repeat the following year and all bets are off. I understand. After all, in some households Thanksgiving is known as Turkey Day.
You might think that I don’t eat turkey, the way I talk. But I do — I just happen to love the vegetable and grain dishes more. Plus I whole-heartedly support my family’s practice of avoiding meat, so much so that I’ve become a merely occasional meat-eater over many years of cooking for my loved ones. Sometimes I say that I’m a vegetarian who strays here and there. Other times I call myself a flexitarian — since I go with the flow of what’s on the plate.
So, in honor of Thanksgiving — a tricky day in a vegetarian household — here’s a story about birds escaping the feast…
This time last year we were preparing to host one of the rare Thanksgivings at our house — a meal full of tantalizing dishes from far continents as well as American favorites.
One morning just before the big day, I looked out our kitchen window and caught a glimpse of a large bird on the neighbor’s roof — a flash of gray out of the corner of my eye. I was still sleepy, so my first thought was blurry eyesight or morning eye goo, but as I squinted fiercely, I realized a wild turkey had hopped up on the roof. Pretty soon it was followed by another bird and then still another. Three large, scruffy gray birds quickly traversed the frost-dusted shingles, and just as we barely took in the sight, they disappeared over the other side. The girls and I were paralyzed with delight. It seemed like a serendipitous gift, but a day later we spied the group (we assume it was the same) crossing our street — running as fast as skinny legs can carry an ample turkey body.
Thanksgiving came and went, and we joked that the trio had been searching for a safe hideout over Black Thursday (as the day is known to turkeys). I’d forgotten about all of this until two days ago when I spotted five turkeys strutting through our front yard. At dinner we pondered our status as turkey magnet — perhaps shelter. Who knows? Three sightings in two years — all within days of Thanksgiving. None of our neighbors have similar reports. We’ll see what happens next year.
To you and yours, whether you eat turkey today, or not. Embrace the bounty and abundance that nature offers. Accept the gift with an open heart.
Here’s a spice-laced chutney that works with turkey as well as it does with all the trimmings. Enjoy.
