The holidays are upon us and along with the decorating, gift-giving, and sappy holiday movies where the boy kisses the girl in the snow, there are a lot of gatherings. And if you’re friends and family are like mine, these gatherings are all about the food.
Take Thanksgiving. There are certain dishes that scream turkey day. Stuffing. Cranberry sauce. Candied yams with toasted marshmallows. But in our family, the most anticipated side dish on the table is the green bean casserole. My mom loved the stuff and to be fair, she made the best I’d ever tasted. But that was also her go-to dish for potlucks and banquets, so much so people would ask me if my mom was bringing her signature dish. So, it’s safe to say she took the preparation of it seriously.
Very seriously.
I Took Over
I took over the reins of the family Thanksgiving almost 20 years ago. My mom was perfectly happy sleeping in while I got up at 6 a.m. on Thanksgiving to prepare the bird and prep all the side dishes. She also trusted that all our years in the kitchen together rubbed off on me enough to make creamy mashed potatoes, perfectly seasoned corn, cornbread stuffing that was moist but still firm and roast a turkey with seasoned, crispy skin and a juicy breast. The first few years she called frequently to check my progress
Mom: Did you put the turkey in the oven?
Me: Is that where it goes?
Mom: Don’t be smart.
Me: Well, if I were dumb the turkey would still be in the fridge.
Or …
Mom: You do know the secret to making the gravy, right?
Me: Open the jar and warm it up slowly?
Mom: Kimberly.
Me: I know … I know … cook the flour.
Finally, we got to this point:
Mom: What time is dinner?
Me: I thought it was your turn to cook?
Mom: Girl, it hasn’t been my turn for ten years. Now, what time are we eating?
Mom was “hangry” before “hangry” was a thing.
So, at this point, she was convinced I could pull all that off.
The Green Bean Casserole
But she wasn’t sold on the green bean casserole. After 10 years of managing Thanksgiving dinners, she still worried over some green beans cooked in soup and spices. But one year, in particular, she was extra stressed over it. I think it was 2014 …
(Phone rings)
Mom: Did you make the green bean casserole?
Me: I’m mixing it now.
Mom: Okay.
An hour later …
Mom: Is the green bean casserole made?
Me: It’s mixed and chilling in the fridge.
Mom: Good.
Five minutes later…
Mom: You didn’t put the onions on it, did you?
Me: No. I mixed some in, but the ones that go on top are still in the can.
Mom: Very good. No one wants soggy fried onions.
Me: Sounds like a bad time.
An hour later…
Mom: is the casserole in the oven?
Me: Yes.
Mom: Did you preheat the oven?
Me: It was already on.
Mom: Okay.
Five minutes later …
Mom: Did you …
Me: Remember to put the onions on top? Yes.
Mom: How’d you know?
Me: Seemed like a safe bet.
Not a Bite
So, you would think that after all that, she would have inhaled the green bean casserole. But she didn’t eat a bite of it at dinner. She preferred it the next day after it had a chance to sit in the fridge overnight. I never realized this until I overheard a conversation between her and another relative. The relative mentioned that the green bean casserole was excellent, and my mom responded with, “You think it’s good now? You should try it tomorrow. It’ll be amazing.”
My mom died in September, and this will be my first Thanksgiving without her. In her honor, I’m going to make a green bean casserole and eat it the next day.
Because it will be amazing.
And so was she.
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