One of my favorite parts of the year is cooking Thanksgiving for my family.
I spend the weeks before the big day cutting out new recipes to try and making turkey-themed place cards. But each year in the middle of peeling potatoes, checking on the turkey and making my famous tapioca pudding, I always make time to call my stepdad in Florida
Without him teaching me how to cook and more importantly, showing me that cooking a meal is gift of love, I am pretty sure that my family would be dining each night on grilled cheese sandwiches.
Our Thanksgiving Day phone call tradition began 15 years ago with me in a panic, convinced that I was either going to burn the bird or give my guests food poisoning.
Even though I am now a confident Thanksgiving chef, the day does not feel complete without a few minutes talking with my stepdad about the new recipes we are trying that year and any new twists we made to the traditional ones.
But these days, I am not alone in the kitchen. My 11-year-old, Laurel, helps make the green bean casserole and chops the bread for the stuffing. Each year I make a silent wish that I am passing my love of cooking down to my daughter, just like my stepdad did for me.
And I can only hope that many years from now, she will call me each year to share about the feast she is preparing for her own family.
Read Jennifer Gregory’s entire blog at TriangleMom2Mom.com/blogs/the_middle_years.