Sometimes, learning to cook is the best thing a child can do
In our house, the first smell of Thanksgiving was not turkey roasting or pumpkin pie but the bleach-sweet steam of my mother ironing the good tablecloth. I remember it from a time when I was small enough to creep unnoticed beneath the ironing board while she painstakingly transformed an undistinguished hump of wrinkled linen into a curtain of shimmering white. With a curt flick of her wrist, my mother sprinkled each length with water from a yellow, plastic bottle designed for this purpose, and then the iron would sizzle a path just above my head. Soon I was surrounded by a linen tent. The smell sparkled like hot stars.
So my Thanksgiving apprenticeship began.
Discovered, I was set to work folding the napkins, the first task allotted to small children wanting to be holiday helpers. The next year, I was allowed to place them beside each plate. My eyes were not that much higher than the table's surface and it seemed the most glamorous thing I had ever seen, a snowy landscape forested by crystal trees, glittering with silver and dishes of every size.
There are certain social barriers we face throughout our lives, that
when knocked down, make a big impression on us. Especially when you’re
a kid. When I was in the 6th grade at Hawthorn Elementary School my
homeroom teacher whose name escapes me, but for our purposes let’s just
call her Miss Pritchard, had a kickass ginger snap recipe. Up until
that time the store bought ones always burned my tongue so I just ruled
them out in my cookie lexicon. They were also flat where Miss
Pritchard’s were fluffy and thick. The sugar that dusted the store
bought ones gave off that diamond glint but Miss Pritchard’s looked
like something you saw when you opened a treasure chest. They were
also crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. Hoo yeah!
Many years ago, more than 30, there was a little boy who loved apples. On sunny autumn days, he and his mom would each put on a warm, cozy sweatshirt. They would get in the car and take a short drive to their favorite apple orchard.
Some days are just harder than others.