I helped my mom start organizing our menu, but naturally I've forgotten what's on it. I know I'll be making pumpkin, pecan, cherry and apple pies, and possibly a Toll House Pie as well. We're not set on numbers yet, though the day is fast approaching.
I've been looking for the Thanksgiving horror stories, so I guess I'll start with one, although it's not really that bad.
Last year my sister was studying abroad in Paris, so we decided to make one of our visits coincide with Thanksgiving. We rented an apartment for a week and a half, and we'd even reserved a turkey from an American "grocery" store in Paris (aptly named Thanksgiving) which was billed as the best turkey we'd ever eat. We planned to host a Thanksgiving dinner for my sister and her friends from her program. Well, two days before we left for France, the Paris subway workers went on strike. No biggie, we thought, as it's only transportation and Thanksgiving was more than a week away at that point.
It must be said that transit strikes in Paris differ greatly from my experience with the transit strike in NYC. Here, a transit strike literally shuts the system down for the duration of the strike--not a train here or there, but literally no service. In Paris, strikes are more of a guideline, so while far from good service, parts of the system were still operating. And rather than everyone standing hard and fast until they get what they want, they return to work in dribs and drabs.
Well, we figured they'd lose enthusiasm fast, so we were surprised when, two days and then a day before Thanksgiving, a healthy chunk of the employees were sticking to their guns. What we weren't prepared for was the sympathy strike. Yes, we woke up Thanksgiving morning to realize that the gas company had cut the gas lines to the area where we were staying, in support of the metro workers. For us, this meant no heat, no hot water and of course, no oven. We made several calls to the landlord, who showed up and shrugged, saying, "It is France..." (If you've ever read any of Peter Mayle's Provence books, you'll know what I'm talking about.) Fortunately, we hadn't picked up the whole turkey yet, so we only lost the deposit, but we couldn't get into any of the Thanksgiving dinners at various American restaurants, so finally we just gathered the group of kids and ended up going out to dinner.