Murphy’s Bye-Laws

The oddities of my moods still strike me as peculiar. When in a mostly non-political mood and not thinking of any of the usual outrages, disappointments, theories, and solutions, I always seem to come up with some metaphorical post tangential to politics. When thinking in terms of all those political quagmires I tend to sprout seeds of wisdom completely unrelated. That is the story today as well. I hadn’t intended to write a post about Thanksgiving, being thankful or gracious, or any of those things. I hadn’t intended to write much of anything, but the concept of the turkey for the national bird and the similarities between domesticated turkeys and the American citizen were just too good to pass up.

I’ll start with a little background of the wild turkey as the national bird. The distinction of wild versus the domesticated bird are pretty important, so don’t confuse them. Ben Franklin is the source of this story, which apparently only surfaced in the letter to his daughter and was

never officially advocated. He did advocate for the rattlesnake, the vengeful creature of the famous (and mostly misunderstood these days) Gadsden flag. John D. MacArthur has this excerpt from the letter on his page where most all of my information for this post originated:

“For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. You may have seen him perched on some dead Tree near the River, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing Hawk; and when that diligent Bird has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the Support of his Mate and young Ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him and takes it from him.

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“With all this Injustice, he is never in good Case but like those among Men who live by Sharping & Robbing he is generally poor and often very lousy. Besides he is a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District. He is therefore by no means a proper Emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America who have driven all the King birds from our Country . . .

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“I am on this account not displeased that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turkey. For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America . . . He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.”

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My previous post about sandwiches made quite a stir. The metaphor was kind of lost in the lettuce of dispute over the status of an open-faced sandwich as something other than a sandwich. Well, the metaphor was only added as an excuse to write about sandwiches. So this time I’ll give you all sandwiches all the time.

As I previously stated, I love sandwiches. I may even have a sandwich problem. I also have an enabler. Around Thanksgiving A___ had the idea to take the quirkiness of stuffin’ muffins – stuffing made in a muffin pan – and making it in a loaf pan in order to cut it into slices and make a leftover turkey sandwich between two slices of stuffing. The idea had a mad scientists kind of appeal that I drooled over.

The stuffing bread makes interesting sandwich material, in a particle board kind of way. The stuffing was made slightly more moist than usual in order for it to hold together. A couple of days layer, the loaf was cut and toasted to add some stiffness and strength to the stuffing bread. Then we piled on turkey, candied sweet potatoes, (maybe some red onion), and some homemade cranberry sauce (not the gelatinous stuff from a can). I was worried that the bread may not hold out, but it worked like a champ and luscious leftovers were transformed into succulent sandwich goodness.

There are pictures to document the event below.

‘Tis the season to atone for being arrogant ingrates for the greater part of the year by remembering all the “little” things that we take for granted.  It is also the time for feasting with no strings attached.  More and more, recently, I’ve heard sentiments about how Thanksgiving is so much better than Christmas because of the lack of pressure for exchanging gifts and, therefore, no hectic days spent among the throngs of people shopping.  (Apparently, these people didn’t go to the grocery store this past weekend.)  It can just be about plenty of delicious, fatty foods and the company of friends and family.  Most people tend to focus on the food more than the family, but I think the idea of home and family is closely intertwined with food.

I never thought much about the connection of food to feelings of home and family until K__ wrote of her fond remembrances of her mother in a recent post over at Llamanation.  She recalls fondly the very specific meals that were meticulously prepared for her by her mom; meals that were meant to convey love and affection and succeeded with flying colors.  The feelings I’m certain K__’s mom had while preparing a meal for loved ones is probably common amongst most cooks who enjoy preparing a delicious meal for loved ones: the feeling of providing comfort, health, and a tangible sense of security.  It is that familiar and repeated culinary embrace, that warm fulfilling sense of security, and the feeling of being looked after in such a fundamental way that makes food such an inalienable part of what people associate with home.

To a lesser degree, assembling with family or very close friends over a meal brings a warm sensation of comfort.  The meal need not evoke a feeling of being home, which requires years and years of repetition, but it does bring a feeling of togetherness.  (I guess eggs really do make a great binder!)  The food is still meticulously prepared to the joy of the cook and the fed, and it becomes a bond of caring and friendship and love.

Many dishes, especially ethnic cuisine, recall meals from the past in far away places.  The place need not have been visited by all, but the memory is passed down from generation to generation on a platter (or in a bowl).  The preparation of a traditional Thanksgiving meal of turkey and various side dishes can be defined by family; every family with different variations and combinations that make it theirs.  When a meal like that is eaten, it is impossible not to remember those who have shared – and especially those who prepared – those meals in the past.