Holiday Food Memory-by Asia Phillips

Every year, on the last Thursday of November aunts and uncles, brothers and sister, cousins, grandparents, and close friends gather as one. The young and the old, the Sudanese, the Ethiopian, some black some white, some short some tall, all sit around the table and dine. We feast on golden hams with baked with pineapples, turkey with gravy, the best cassava, and macaroni with mountains of cheesy goodness. Thanksgiving brings us all together with stories, laughter, and “remember when’s”.

Last year was one of the best Thanksgivings to date. My grandmother made her normal succulent meats, zesty pastas, and light salads. My mom and aunts prepared the desserts including apple pie, cobbler and cakes. The men were in charge of bringing beverages and condiments. The children normally scramble around the table trying to prepare asking which utensil is for salad, which for soup and how many napkins all in unison. My grandmother’s house is always a colorful zoo around this time.

My aunt and uncle flew in from Ethiopia and I even met family from Sudan. It was a beautiful thing, many dialects and beautiful people in different shades of brown filled the main level of the home. My aunt even surprised us with international dishes of goat and oxtails. The night went a lot smoother than planned. There was a little dining hall set up for the younger children and all the adults dined together at the big table and some even spilled over to the living room. As a matter of fact the only thing that was pretty difficult was the prayer. Because of the diversity in the room we had a Christian and Islamic based prayer. My grandmother is Christian but her sister is a Muslim so the room sat quietly and respected both prayers.

I somehow managed to grab two plates. I made sure to taste a little of everything. A little macaroni, chicken breast, oxtail, ham, turkey, sweet potatoes, greens, cauliflower, seafood salad, shrimp, cassava, goat, rice, cornbread, and cole slaw. I was in heaven; I indulged in everything as if it was my last supper. It was to an extent because I’d have to wait a whole year to eat so care free again. I dropped every diet and freed all inhibitions. I savored the macaroni’s cheesiness and the hams sweetness. I wanted to even close my eyes as I chewed the food, but I figured I’d look pretty silly.

The candles dimmed the room and we all sat and listened to embarrassing stories of the now adults, flight horrors, and planning next year’s Thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving this year will have a hard time beating the previous one, but I can not wait to have a swing at it!