It’s all about time with loved ones, not how many forks you have

Yay! We made it to Thanksgiving. That’s a good start. Now we can focus on the turkey (be nice, now!).

Before you stress out about holiday cleaning, decorating, cooking, dreading the antics of weird Uncle Lester and searching for someplace to sequester the cat before you set out all that food … remember, you could be working on the Butterball help line.

This Thanksgiving will be a bit different at the Tanner household, because other family members are committed to spending the holiday with other relatives. It feels weird to contemplate a groaning board for just three of us, after lifetimes of big, boisterous holiday meals.

So many memories: My grandparents’ Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners were large, suit-and-tie affairs. Yes, there was a kids’ table, but our best manners and Sunday attire were mandatory.

Preparation took days, even though my grandmother didn’t work, and she had a live-in maid. But then, too, she didn’t have a food processor, microwave or (heaven help us) a turkey fryer.

Later, after my mom married my resort-hotel-chef stepdad, we began a gypsy-like period of following the seasons. On holidays, our large group of diners was apt to gather together around the restaurant kitchen’s big prep table.

Then, presto! I was on my own. Mom and Dad were on the move again. I had a good job and nice friends, thank you, so I found a roommate and sent my parents on their vagabond way.

By Thanksgiving, 19-year-old me was facing my first holiday alone, with my family 1,000 miles away. I was a copywriter and talk show host for a big-city radio station in a tourist-oriented area. Very few people in my financial bracket or social strata got the day off to go home for the Thanksgiving holidays.

Lots of friends, like me, appeared doomed to dining solo on a Swanson turkey dinner, until I decided to host my own Thanksgiving Day dinner — for 26 disenfranchised people.

The cooking wasn’t a problem. I’d prepared all kinds of food since childhood, so not much in the culinary world daunted me then or now.

The buffet had it all, even though I only had one small oven. I served Virginia City-style candied ham warm, chilled rare roast beef and hot turkey with stuffing and gravy. Appetizers, mashed potatoes, yams, pies. Fortunately, I had a large refrigerator.

As I wrote in 2002, everything seemed perfect — until people got their food and looked around for silverware.

Oh, I’d begged and borrowed enough plates. But way too late, I realized that, for 26 people, I had eight forks.

My guests dished up some merciless teasing, and then we ate in shifts between giggles.

“Come on, it’s my turn. Share the fork. You’re just being mean.”

Hosting that Thanksgiving dinner taught me a lot. Later, as the owner/operator of a full-line retail bakery and catering company in Cambria, that training served me well:

▪  1: No matter how good your list is, you will forget something.

▪  2: If you don’t mention the omission, there’s an 80 percent chance that nobody will ever notice.

▪  3: Keep your cool and laugh at yourself, and guests will forgive you for almost anything, even if they do figure out what’s missing.

▪  4: Eating yams, gravy or caramelized corn with a spoon is OK, but turkey, ham and roast beef are a pain.

▪  5: If the food is tasty and the company convivial, it’s amazing what people will forget, most often remembering the shared laughter and fun.

Sure, I’ve had other embarrassing moments in the kitchen since then, and yes, I remember them all. They don’t matter.

Since that first Thanksgiving, I’ve fed holiday meals to more than 50 people in my home and 600 people at catering venues. I’ve helped with holiday community dinners, soup kitchens and meal deliveries to the homebound.

But it’s family that matters. We are so thankful that We Three Musketeers can share the holiday together. Because that’s what it’s really all about, at any time of year ... spending time with loved ones.

And if Husband Richard, Son Brian and I replace the Thanksgiving turkey with Chinese food or homemade sushi, so be it. Fortunately, we have plenty of chopsticks — and forks.

Happy holidays! Here we go …

This story was originally published November 22, 2016 at 8:22 AM with the headline "It’s all about time with loved ones, not how many forks you have."