Unforgettable memories of Halloween and Thanksgiving
As you read this, Halloween will be gone and Thanksgiving will be on its way. I can’t help reflecting on how these holidays shaped my childhood. As children in Miami, my siblings and I, along with all our neighborhood friends, started piecing together our Halloween costumes weeks in advance. Dad’s shirts were requisitioned as pirates’ uniforms, Mom’s dresses became Miss America gowns. A white sheet from the closet made the perfect ghost. The great reveal on Halloween night thrilled, scared, and brought laughter from everyone in the neighborhood.
We never left the house before dark. That was part of the thrill of Halloween. We trickor-treated in groups of friends and siblings, some carrying flashlights, all of us carrying paper grocery bags to collect the candy. We had to yell “Trick or Treat” to have the door open. Oh, the candy. There was no such thing as “bite size” or “child size”. The candy bars were huge and by the time we got home we were ready to plow in. Mom and Dad were fun about Halloween. There was no “making the candy last” by doling out one or two bars a day. No, as soon as we got home, each of us four kids picked a spot on the floor and dumped all our candy out. What a cache! We carried on high-stake trading, my yukky caramel for your yummy Hershey’s. We ate as much as we wanted before bedtime. The next morning, candy made its way to the breakfast table, into our school lunch bags, served as after-school and evening snacks until they were all gone. What fun Halloween was.
Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, is a comforting time of year and brings back good memories of my childhood. Mom was such a great cook and Thanksgiving was her favorite time to cook. She created pumpkin and Key Lime pies for days before Thanksgiving. Covered in tinfoil, her pies were kept in the refrigerator, and Mom knew she had to make two of every pie, one for “testing” right away, one for Thanksgiving dessert. Mom went from grocery store to grocery store, searching for the largest turkey she could find. When she withdrew that huge brown-skinned, shiny from its natural juices, wildly scented American bird from the oven, we all knew dinner was near. Looking back, I don’t know how Mom managed to throw together not only the turkey and plenty of pies, but my favorite, her sweet potato casserole with melted marshmallows on top. Oh, her made-from-scratch yeast biscuits. OMG, just thinking about them makes my nose suck in the imaginary aroma of the hot biscuits coming out of the oven. No margarine for Mom’s home-made biscuits, only real butter graced their insides, melting in my mouth. And, Welch’s grape jelly, of course.
Exchange students from the U of Miami were invited to our Thanksgiving dinners. The spread was beyond their wildest dreams of American Thanksgiving dinners, before seen only in their movie theaters. None of them believed the size of the turkey, the mouthwatering scents that drenched the whole house, and the fact that Mom made it all herself.
As my sister and I cleared away the dishes and whatever food was left from the glorious dinner, Mom took out her mixer, cream and powdered sugar.
She proceeded to make “real” whipped cream to grace her pies.
No squirty cans of fake whipped cream on Mom’s table, even if there was such a thing back then. Her home-made crusts, rolled out on the kitchen counter days before were the perfect tint of beige and the bottoms were not soggy, as mine tend to be. Mom was truly the quintessential home cook, and she really shined on Thanksgiving.
As Mom sliced her pies at the table and plopped huge spoonsful of whipped cream on top, an area just big enough for dessert opened in our stomachs. It would have been a sin to turn down dessert. My parents’ motto: There is always room for dessert!
Fun surrounded my childhood Halloweens, then bountiful memories were made at my family Thanksgiving table. Dad worked hard to provide the means, and Mom worked hard to leave luscious memories to last a lifetime.