My sister and her family got a jump on the holidays.
They traveled to NC from VA a week prior to Thanksgiving to visit Mom and Dad and to deliver Christmas gifts. Although this group picture doesn’t look too “socially distant,” they kept their masks on and stayed outside during their visit.
My Thanksgiving, on the other hand, began on the morning of, I took an 8 AM yoga class, showered afterwards, complete with washing my hair, then I hopped onto a Zoom call with my family while twisting my locks. The call ended soon after I finished my hair since I had to do my Thanksgiving cooking.
Since my friend was preparing pork chops versus turkey, due to food supply chain concerns, I looked up recipes that would compliment the main dish. I couldn’t decide between “Lemon Ginger Spinach” and “Honey and Balsamic Baked Brussels Sprouts,” so I prepared both of them–after making cornbread, that is. I hadn’t baked cornbread in quite a while. The way I like it is with a cup of butter, hot green chilies, two type of cheeses, whole kernel corn and nearly a cup of sugar. This time around, I used creamed corn and brown sugar.
When I arrived at my friend’s house, the Corgi welcoming crew awaited me.
Those two little sweeties remained calm until I took one step into the house, then the happy barking began. I’m no Dr. Doolittle, but I knew they were excited to see me and wondered why it had been a while since they’d last seen me.
One of my traditions, especially with this friend, is that whenever we’re celebrating something, I bring over a bottle of my favorite speciality wine, Cabernero, which is a full-bodied cabernet infused with habanero peppers. Everyone who hears that description initially thinks the wrong thing, but when I offer them a sip, they admit it’s a delicious spicy red wine. I’ve never taken it to a party and brought a partially filled bottle back home.
So, of course, we started with the wine and a charcuterie board. Her husband joined us briefly before the football game drew him to the sofa.
Two glasses of wine later, we moved the conversation into the kitchen where she prepared an amazing pork chop recipe.
What I had envisioned was fried pork chops, which I would have been perfectly happy with. Yet, what she prepared was a joy to watch as if I were part of a cooking show audience.
She started by frying up pancetta, an Italian bacon that wasn’t smoked. As soon as I tasted it, I knew exactly what that fancy-sounding bacon was: cracklin! My grandmother, Mama Bea, used to serve cracklin for breakfast. When I looked up which part of the pig cracklin came from, the explanation said that it included the skin and underlying fat. The description for pancetta wasn’t that much different. They even included something Mama Bea always joked about: We eat every part of the pig except the oink! I don’t care how fancy other cultures think they are when it comes to pork products, Black people have come up with the same thing. As slaves.
After scooping out the pancetta, she cooked the pork chops, removed them, then fried the yellow apple slices, removed them, then added spices, followed by bourbon and heavy whipping cream. Once the sauce had formed, she reintroduced the chops and apples into the skillet. Quite a beautiful show to behold and wonderful to partake.
Our dinner was rounded out with her delicious mashed potatoes.
My Thanksgiving reflected several cultures coming together.
On Black Friday, my mother’s side of the family had its 79th reunion.
We normally hold our reunion the last full weekend in June, but nothing has been normal in 2020. Everyone who was part of the program logged on 45 minutes early. Since I was the emcee, I logged on and reminded everyone how we had to name ourselves, which was our first and last name, our branch or tribe name, then we indicated which breakout room we wanted to be in.
Our patriarch, Jesse Strange, had 12 children, which we all referred to as the “branches” or “tribes.” Since I descended from my grandfather Floyd B. Strange, I put his first name after mine. The three breakout rooms were “Youth,” “Main,” and “Seasoned.” I put a capital S after my grandfather’s name since that was my age category, 50 and above.
With very few tech glitches, we enjoyed our family,
starting with my opening monologue, then an opening prayer, scripture, a father-daughter gospel song, a brief family history, operational report, achievements, family picture slideshow, a 30-min breakout session, and finally, when we were all back in the main room, a closing prayer.
So many family stories flew around during my breakout session, I wish had recorded that part. Nonetheless, I’m going to follow up with the relatives in my mother’s generation to document as many stories as I can for the Strange Family Folklore podcast. As good as everyone felt at the end of the virtual reunion, I should get a lot of cooperation.
