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New husbands:
Score big on T.D. with a well-crafted game plan
It's November. Leaves are burned or mulched. Enough firewood to survive an extended nor'easter is split and stacked. The chimney's cleaned and the woodstove checked. Windows and doors are caulked. Tulip and daffodil bulbs are planted. Rose bushes are insulated from the frost. Garden hoses are wound up and stored away. Exterior faucets drained and insulated along with pipes. Emergency provisions are stocked in the pantry.
Yep, you're ready for winter. And you're looking forward to a well-deserved reward: the guy's perfect holiday, a one-day respite before the full-bore blizzard of shopping, decorating entertaining, office partying, family visits, etc.
You want to take full advantage of the Thanksgiving-calm-before-the-early-winter-obligation storm. In previous years, that didn't require any planning. As a child, Mom and the sisters cooked the feast and cleared the aftermath. Except for hefting the bird in and out of the oven, Dad's, yours and other males' responsibilities were:
- Carving the turkey.
- Eating the turkey and trimmings.
- Disposing of the turkey byproducts.
- Falling asleep during a Dallas Cowboys football game.
- Eating a turkey and cranberry sauce sandwich and a piece of whipped-cream-smothered pumpkin pie during the late evening.
After moving away from home, you had more Thanksgiving Dinner offers than you could possibly accept. (Your gluttony ways were cured one year after attending two dinners. You didn't want to offend the cooks and forced down two full plates at each home. That was four helpings of turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, yams, fruit salad, corn, pumpkin pie and homemade cranberry sauce so tart your lips were puckered the rest of the day.
Through trial and error, you had choosing Thanksgiving Dinner perfected. Mrs. C cooked the juiciest turkey with lip-swirling gravy. Her stuffing didn't contain any oozers (oysters) or exotic fruit, but the traditional bread, sage, celery, etc... And her cranberry sauce came from a can. It didn't contain whole berries resembling ball-bearings. It was more like solidified Jell-O. Mrs. C even baked your favorite Thanksgiving dessert -- mincemeat pie. Your comment about mincemeat filling containing real meat -- "mostly cow parts" -- assured a few slices would remain and Mrs. C would insist that you take them home with you. Your attempts at helping with the clean-up were always rebuked. You were told to go watch football with Mr. C and the guys.
This is a new era, though. A new millennium even, depending on which century-counting method you ascribe to. More importantly, there's a new head chef in your life. Your bride could not even entertain the idea of eating Thanksgiving Dinner at another woman's home, except hers or your mother's.
Time to update your strategy for a spectacular T.D. (Thanksgiving Dinner). Here's a few tips:
- Buy a premium roasting pan large enough to hold at least a 15-pound turkey. Your wife will assure you it is too big, but tell her you'll need it later as your family grows. (Don't tell her that you're thinking of your waistline, not little ones.)
- Pick up a magazine with Thanksgiving recipes and at least one article that a man would probably read. Sunset has travel articles. Tell her you're interested in the story on (insert national park name here). Make sure the magazine contains recipes of the traditional sort, not some scripts for a low-fat, animal-friendly holiday. Put the magazine back if the word "tofu" appears anywhere within its covers.
- Flip through the pages, as you pass the Thanksgiving spread, subtly comment, "That gravy looks like my mother's. Boy, she made the best turkey gravy! She also cooked the best sage stuffing." Continue with the rest of the menu but don't overdo it and mention a few items you don't care for, such as the pebbly cranberry sauce. With the proper delivery, you'll hit the competitive bone. Every daughter-in-law has one. Her mission for the next month will be to prepare a Thanksgiving feast tastier than anything you've ever savored.
- Convince her to invite a few friends over for Turkey Day. Make sure the men are football fans. Avoid vegetarians, political activists and board-game players. Vegans and any other non-meat-eating folks do not embrace this feast and will smother the spirit like a pound of melted tofu on an organic cherry tomato. Self-righteous Political Correcties -- except for reminding you to donate to a food bank -- have no place on this holiday of excess. Board-game players, or worse, scary Pictionary fanatics, will demand some interactive entertainment. Prevent surprise side dishes by insisting guests only bring some wine, beer, pop or juice.
- Pay the extra money for a fresh turkey. Order it early for pick-up on Thanksgiving Eve. Avoid a frozen turkey like milk a week past its "drink-by"date. Nothing can spoil Thanksgiving quicker than a partially-thawed bird.
- In the days immediately prior to the big day, make an extra effort around the house. If your chore list is completed, ask your wife if there is anything you can help with. (Of course, true gentlemen do this anyway. I know, I've seen them on T.V.)
- Stress the importance of eating Thanksgiving Dinner in the early afternoon. Tell your bride: " By eating at 1 p.m. we will have more time to visit with our friends."
On the day of the event, roll out early and help in the kitchen. Do some of the prep work while your wife watches the parade. Demand that heirloom china be set on the table. After the parade of oversized balloon animals, hover in the kitchen, sweetly asking, "Honey, is there anything else you need?" about every 15 minutes. Soon you'll be banished from the kitchen. Switch the channel to the Detroit game. Keep the volume -- the television's and that of your cheers or jeers -- extremely low. Be a gracious host as guests arrive.
One word for the dinner: COMPLIMENT, COMPLIMENT, COMPLIMENT. OK, that's three words but heed them no matter the quality of the food. Also, make sure you're the first to praise your sweetheart's cooking. After dessert, say, "Why don't you all go watch T.V. while I clean up." Usually, your wife and her friends will butt in, "No, here, we'll do that." You, now not too emphatically, counter: "No, I don't mind." (Maybe you should make sure that old china's pattern is still available before pulling this next trick.) On the off-chance your table-clearing ploy fails, drop a saucer or dessert plate on the carpet, making sure it does land flat to prevent breakage. You will be relieved of your duties immediately.
Now you're ready to score a bellyful of turkey and trimmings, and a relaxing afternoon of cheering for whatever NFL team will beat the Dallas Clodboys. The odds favor a winning T.D.
Prior to publication of this article, Matt Pranger was married to Sharon Kivisto. For an update on Matt's dismemberments, dislocations or disfigurement check out his most recent column. or look for him eating a turkey pot-pie at a local convenience store come Thanksgiving.
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