I will be cooking my first turkey dinner this Christmas and I'm a little scared, I have never cooked a 14 pound bird before and I really don't want to poison anyone. And of course I want it to be perfect-juicy and succulent with a crisp golden skin. I have spent the last half hour writing myself a prep list like I would in a restaurant kitchen, breaking down each component into the ingredients that I need, method of cooking, basically doing a play by play rehearsal of what I will do that day, right down to how I want everyone's individual plate to look. It all runs smoothly in my head, I hope it will in reality.
At first when I decided to make Christmas dinner, I didn't want to have turkey, it's what almost everyone has and I wanted to do something different, like a hearty stew with dumplings or a baked ham. We hardly ever eat ham and I love it, with scalloped potatoes and roasted brussels sprouts, delicious. But then the Hub and I started talking about the turkey dinners that his Mum made for the holidays and I knew that I had to do turkey for our first dinner, in her honour. It saddens me that she never met the Babe, or set foot in the home that was just a diagram on paper back then. I still have an image in my head of M holding the Lady as a newborn, cooing in her ear and gently dancing her around to stop her crying. M always had a magic touch with the Lady, and the crying would cease, and she would drift off to sleep on her Nana's shoulder, content.
It makes me wish that I had spent more time with M in the kitchen when she prepared the big meal, she always made it look so easy. She often told me that I cook so much every day that she wanted me to have a break and relax, she insisted upon it. I miss her, so much, not just to get some tips on how to make my meal as good as hers, but to just be near her, hug her one more time, hear her laugh.
I know that the holidays can be a sad time for some, missing loved ones that aren't with us anymore to celebrate. But with this we are trying to create new traditions and memories to pass on to our young ones, and keep the spirit of our lost loved ones alive. Seeing a bottle of M's favourite cherry juice in the grocery store today as we shopped for the dinner made the Hub and I smile, funny how the smallest detail can make us think of her. Of course we bought the juice.
I hope M will watch over me as I prep our big dinner, especially when I make the gravy, hers was the best I've ever had! I hope I make you proud, M. We miss you.