The reasons I love to plan and cook a feast for friends and family are deliciously selfish. Here I am, hours before the big day, and I’m really thinking about my reasons that exceed the popular sentiment of “I’m thankful.” I want to be wedged on the sofa between friends and family I never see enough of with a piece of pie in my hand, telling funny stories, not sweating in the kitchen because I didn’t manage to make it all come together at the same time. The way I want to cook is the way I want to live, with as little extraneous noise in my recipes and more noise in the living room.
Leading up to Thanksgiving last week, we ugly-laughed all night long while we spent a little time prepping some dishes and desserts. As a family we cook, we eat, we laugh and we remember all that made us want to come and break bread together.
I looked around the room and prayed we will all see each other again for next year’s feast. I can’t help but think this way. Love and loss are a painful part of life, and never has that been a more real experience than right now. For now we are all here. Our time will be spent wrapped up in each other and not fussy recipes.
This is my mother’s recipe. It’s simple, unfussy and full of memories. There has never been a Thanksgiving without it, and it will last well into the weekend, long after family and friends have said their goodbyes. Foods are traditions, and they hold a picture book full of memories.
1 prepared crust
1 15 oz. canned pumpkin pie mix
3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
Mix the pumpkin, eggs and cream. Pour into pie crust. Bake at 350 Fahrenheit for 1 hour. Cool and serve with whipped cream.