Our BBQ-Loving Englishman Tackles a Traditional American Thanksgiving

Pumpkin isn’t a food, and you all need to deal with that.

Whatever it is, though (decoration? eyesore?), it is really quite delicious. I used to go to a Thanksgiving dinner thrown every year by an American friend back in Cardiff, and always refused the pumpkin pie on the basis that it could not possibly taste good. Earlier this year, I took the pumpkin plunge, and well knock me down with a feather if that stuff isn’t amazing. I mean, I am obviously eating a Halloween decoration, but it’s almost certainly tastier than a fake spider web, or even a real spider web.

I am totally on board with Thanksgiving. I’m not even sure what we’re celebrating, but that hasn’t stopped me gatecrashing parties before and drinking all the alcohol. I’m also a lot more comfortable with this celebration than the Fourth of July, which makes me feel like I’m attending a party in honour of me going away. Again, this will not stop me from taking the alcohol; I just need more to overcome the guilt and shame I should apparently be feeling. Because we lost that war, we don’t actually get taught anything about the American Revolution in history class, so really I don’t know what happened. Something about tea, a harbor and taxation. Of course, I don’t get to vote here, despite all the taxes I pay, so the best I can do is run over voters who I disagree with on Election Day. (Note to USCIS: This did not actually happen.)

I see we have taken a tangent here. Thanksgiving. Yes. It’s Christmas without the presents, so any element of guilt has been removed, unless of course you manage to set the turkey on fire. Christmas would be vastly improved without the forced present-giving, so I’m glad you as a country are all over the family/food side of the equation. This year we are taking in some unfortunate Americans who aren’t going home, so they win the unique distinction of having all of their Thanksgiving dinner cooked by a British family. We’re going with some traditional American sides that we will undoubtedly cock up (cock up means to make a mess of it, I use it all the time, you’re welcome), such as sweet potato casserole. Marshmallows on a savoury dish, America. Marshmallows. Like so much American cuisine (I’m led to believe this one is a Southern thing), you’re doing it so right and so very wrong at the same time.

We will of course, much to our guest’s probable surprise and disgust, be adding a British flavor to this Thanksgiving meal, with roast potatoes and sticky toffee pudding. I can’t wait. In the spirit of giving thanks, thank you all for reading the absolute crap I have been writing for the last few months. I will continue to write said crap until I am deported or the editor regains his senses, whichever one comes first.