Thanksgiving

Pulling off the traditional Thanksgiving meal the year we lived in Norway was a bigger challenge than I anticipated. I couldn’t get all the ingredients I needed and I felt it nearly miraculous I even found a whole turkey.  A nine pounder was as big as I could buy, about half the size I’m used to cooking.

Knowing the holiday was before us, I asked some American friends that came for a visit months earlier, if they wouldn’t mind bringing me items I quickly discovered weren’t available in Norway. I wouldn’t have been able to make a pumpkin pie if they hadn’t brought canned pumpkin, vanilla and brown sugar. A Norwegian cousin also made a quick trip to Kansas for his job, so he brought me back pecans for pecan pie, otherwise that wouldn’t have been on the menu, either.

Trying to find spices like nutmeg and cloves proved expensive and very frustrating.  All the foil packages of spices had the exact same illustration on the outside and their Norwegian names were a total mystery.  I bought several packages then opened them up like Christmas presents to see what was inside. I ended up with several unusable powders I didn’t recognize. Unfortunately, I never found everything I needed, but I seemed to be the only one that noticed flavors were missing from the recipes.

My favorite cornbread recipe has a can of creamed corn in it. I was so bummed that I couldn’t make it because not only is creamed corn not available, but I couldn’t even find any cornmeal. I thought I hit the jackpot one day when I bought a box of something with a picture of corn on the front, but soon discovered it was cornstarch.

We still had much to be thankful for though, and we were glad to share our American holiday with our Norwegian relatives.

As is our tradition, we went around the table and everyone said two things they were thankful for but it took some of them a while to come up with something, as giving thanks isn’t really a Norwegian thing. It was fun to watch their expressions as they tasted foods they’ve never seen, like stuffing and yams with marshmallows. Surprisingly, the pumpkin pie didn’t go over too well - they all said it must be an acquired taste - but we were glad for that - all the more for us.

Except for eating turkey and pumpkin pie, it didn’t feel much like our traditional Thanksgiving back home because both Kaleb and I had to go to school that day and the day after.

The night before, when I baked the pies, I stuck the knife in to see if they were done. I let Kaleb lick the knife, and with a dreamy lilt in his voice, he said, “Ahhhh, it tastes like home.” And I guess that is what was missing on that Thanksgiving Day. Thanksgiving is an all American holiday that plays out best at home.