They're done with cooking and ready for just eating

RALEIGH -- The Watkins family built its life on food.

But on a holiday that puts good food center stage, these longtime restaurateurs keep their oven cool and the china in the cabinet.

They grabbed trays and stood in line with thousands at a K&S cafeteria for a slice of turkey they didn't lift a finger to cook.

"Honey, I must have cooked 40 turkeys in my years," said Lynda Watkins, 70, who owned and operated "Big Ed's" in downtown Raleigh with her husband, Ed, until 2006. "No more. It's too much trouble."

It was a common refrain among a crowd of matriarchs marching through the cafeteria line like their generation had done decades before to win equal rights for women. Their protests were simple: We've put in our time in the kitchen and had nothing but aches and leftovers to show for it. Their demands were easy: Light on the gravy, please. I'll take an extra piece of pie, and you can keep that salad.

The scene at the K&S cafeteria in east Raleigh was as American as any. Boys with crumpled hair wore their game-day sweatshirts. Grandma wore the broach and blouse she saves for special occasions. Teens texted friends with phones tucked under the table. Grown brothers fussed over who would get the check.

By day's end, the Triangle's three K&S Cafeterias were expected to serve Thanksgiving dinners to nearly 8,000 paying customers, owner Harris Smith said. For $7.79, each customer got the traditional plate: turkey and gravy, a salad, two sides, bread, pie and a drink. This was no mess-hall fare.

"This kind of cooking will make a tadpole hit a whale to get some," said "Big Ed" Watkins, trying to force a bite of pumpkin pie onto a visitor before leaning back to let his pot belly press against his bib overalls.

An army of cooks reported to K&S's kitchen at midnight Wednesday to begin cooking sweet potatoes for the restaurant's made-from-scratch pies. By 3 a.m. Thursday at the cafeteria off New Bern Avenue, the first of the 110 turkeys went in the oven. All told, the restaurants planned to serve nearly 3,000 pounds of turkey.

The Watkins started spending their Thanksgivings at K&S about five years ago. Lynda began protesting the alarm set to wake her at 3 a.m. to give her enough time to prepare the family's Thanksgiving feast. This Thanksgiving, she slept until the sun rose, then sipped her coffee while watching the morning news. She planned to spend the afternoon gathering pecans with her son Richard. Big Ed, 76, would catch a nap.

Take a seat at the Watkins' table in K&S, and you would hear versions of the same jokes, same tales, same tiffs echoing through homes across the Triangle.

Children and grandchildren ordered up Big Ed's best stories, usually involving tall tales about Lynda hunting snakes and muskrats with her shotgun as she rides around their farm in her golf cart. The Watkins laughed about cocky roosters, loyal dogs, bargain hunting and family chili cook-offs. Ed and Lynda, married for 46 years, swapped barbs like siblings.

"If I buy her something, I hide it in the oven to make sure she never finds it," Ed says.

"You've got enough mouths for three sets of teeth, old man," Lynda fires back.

Then, they grinned at each other like high school sweethearts.