To Turkey Trot, or Not

One of the best things about Thanksgiving is the Turkey Trot. For non-Americans, this is the tradition of participating in a low-pressure family fun run on the morning of Thanksgiving. In Falmouth, Mass, the race is called “Chase the Turkey” and one lucky Falmouth Academy senior gets to dress up like a turkey and start the race...so cool! This whole concept got lost somewhere in my subconscious until the other day when I remembered and decided to institute the First Annual Trieste Turkey Trot here on Saturday when we celebrate Thanksgiving. So far there are three participants: Me, Cristian, and Luna. It’s going to be great. We’re going to eat like pigs in the afternoon.

Which brings me to next year. No more turkeys, only pigs. Turkeys are too big for my little European oven. Yes, for this year I have ordered my turkey from Remo the butcher and also bought a roasting pan, all for the benefit of friends who would like to have a real Thanksgiving “like on TV,” but this is it. I already know what Remo is going to say when I get there on Saturday morning to pick up the turkey and it is huge. “You want me to cut that up for you?” Last year he let me buy half of it. This year I have enough people to eat a whole one but it won’t be the same if he cuts it up. A real thanksgiving Turkey “like on TV” is served whole and carved at the table with an electric knife (Rocky Horror Picture show anyone?). Anything else is just a giant TV dinner.

Like I said, next year is going to be different. Forget ordering a turkey. I’m going to concentrate on Trieste’s strengths. But that would mean Jota and assorted boiled meats, and, certainly there is a time and place for both, but perhaps not at my table in an effort to substitute THE BEST FOOD IN THE WORLD. Plan B. Ham baked in bread dough- now there’s a good one, you don’t have to even bake it yourself. There’s a baker in town who does it for you in his BIG OVEN. I’m going to do that next year. And then I’m going to have a Pig Trot in the morning, and since we have a year to plan, we have time to find just the right person to dress like a pig and get the race going.

(photo caption: I thought it only fitting to scan a photo from our year in Belgium. This photo is from a Thanksgiving Dinner that friends of mine invited me and some of my friends to. The family who hosted this dinner had an American mother and a Belgian dad. They had quite a time getting the turkey, but they imported their entire American kitchen, so it fit nicely in their oven AND the leftovers felt right at home in their side by side fridge. - Laura)

P.s. The turkey was big-- 7 kilos. It fit in my small oven, and it was DELICIOUS! So was the homemade pumpkin pie (made from a real pumpkin)... YUM!!!!!