Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Growing up, my mom went to heroic lengths to make Thanksgiving special for my sister and I. She’d spend all day in the kitchen, determined to nail every American tradition, producing this elaborate turkey dinner for us and extended family. Here’s the thing though: My sister actually hated turkey. Found it too dry. But she never had the heart to tell Mom after all that effort, so she’d just drown it in gravy and cranberry sauce while the rest of us pretended not to notice. Then we’d face days of leftovers haunting the fridge. Eventually, we discovered the restaurant “Thanksgiving Package”, the whole spread, professionally done, no stress. Mom seemed almost relieved. Turns out the point was never really about who cooked what. This year we’re in Maine, doing what’s become our new tradition: skiing together and catching up with friends in the area. It’s a far cry from those childhood Thanksgivings, but that’s the beauty of it. The traditions evolve, the location changes, but as long as we’...