Leftovers

The sun still hasn't risen the day after Thanksgiving. During the night wind blew in fresh rain over the foothills in Grass Valley, Calif. The house was quiet; the faint ticking of the clock in the living room and my daughter breathing heavily next to me was the only noises to be heard.

Except for the rumbling in my stomach.

It's 4:30 in the morning and all I could think about was FOOD. I was mentally beating myself up for not accepting leftovers my cousin offered to us over and over again. The first taste that teased my memory was my cousins raspberry tart which had me sweetly and sourly tossing and turning. Then I began trying to recreate the familiar yet special taste of turkey smothered with cranberry sauce and the battling flavors of the cornbread stuffing and the traditional stuffing. Then I remembered that right next to the stuffing on my plate was the green bean casserole. This is when I decided I had to suppress these cravings and try and get back to sleep.

There was no reason my body should require nourishment. I had plenty to eat the night before including dessert and my fair share of adult beverages. When I fell asleep I was fat and happy.

I reassured myself that we had set plans to meet some cousins for breakfast fairly early and my stomach could wait till then.

The household woke up and we headed to breakfast. Two cups of coffee, a bloody mary, and half of my plate of corned beef and hash had my stomach full, but it was still not satisfied. We said our goodbyes to our beloved family and started the drive down the hill back to Sacramento. It was then the realization that I might not have the privilege of savoring Thanksgiving leftovers hit me and I became sad. Almost as if I was trying to subdue a sudden feeling of panic I reminded myself the situation was out of my control and I shouldn't let a craving spoil a fun night planned out with friends.

So that's what I did, had a great time at a concert in San Francisco with some of my favorite musical misfits. The music and the fun had taken my mind off of the depressing fantasy of a "to-go" Thanksgiving. It wasn't until the next morning when we began to stir and speak of plans for the day that my friend mentioned something about leftovers up at his house.

My heart skipped a beat. I tried to control my excitement for fear of seeming to anxious and deflecting an invitation. Finally after hours we all set course for destination Colfax, Calif. The California foothills seems to be the place where all the leftovers were hiding.

Our hosts were gracious and generous. Before I knew it the table was filled with their Thanksgiving leftovers. The homemade cranberry sauce zapped me back to my dinner two nights before when I explained to my Uncle Carlos, visiting from Alaska, that cranberry sauce might be my favorite. The yams were the best I ever tasted (and I don't even like yams), not candied but still sweet with brown sugar. Then I remembered from my previous dinner the great yams vs sweet potatoes debate with my cousin and her husband. The mystery casserole was brought over by one of my hosts uncles; no body sitting around the table cared we didn't know what was in it because it was good. The main course of our leftover dinner wasn't the pickings from a turkey carcass but instead a bowl filled with fresh cracked crab. While I worked through the crab shells to reap the rewards of succulent, melt in my mouth crab meat I thought of my father who was in Europe exploring and having the time of his life during the holiday. And finally to top off a perfect dinner we feasted on pecan pie; the pecans melted in my mouth. This experience reminded me of my Aunt Landa's pecan/pumpkin pie and her story of having to make a new one for Thanksgiving because they ate the original the night before!

It wasn't until I began writing this that I became aware that the feeling of hunger I woke up with at 4:30 in the morning wasn't just a hunger for food. It was the sensation of the taste that takes me to memories of the people I love and how important it is to make new memories. The reward of our leftover dinner made me thankful of my family and friends who make my life so flavorful. However, another important lesson was learned; never deny offered leftovers, I might need them sooner than thought.