— by Lin McNulty, Managing Editor —

I was a new bride in 1968 and my first Thanksgiving as a married woman was coming up. For some reason, I volunteered to cook the family Thanksgiving dinner, even though I had never cooked a turkey before and was not exactly known in my family circle (nor anywhere, for that matter) for my culinary skills. I had once made biscuits for my roommates and they played baseball with them in the hallway. One of them gave me a recipe for “baseball biscuits” at my bridal shower.

But, I was a real grown-up now and if my family was trusting enough to accept the invitation, then certainly I would be able to pull off a simple feast. One that would knock any turkey’s socks off (you know, if they were to actually wear socks). How hard could it be?

This was not to be just a normal family Thanksgiving, however. Yes, we would have our standard favorites, lime Jell-o with cottage cheese and pineapple; celery stuffed with jar cheese or with peanut butter; mashed potatoes; those sweet potato things that no one ever eats; veggies, dressing; and the turkey. Mom thankfully would do the pies, and Grandma would bring her unbelievable green bean casserole (the recipe for which she, with a gleeful giggle, simply refused to share).

I, however, would bring my family into the age of sophistication. I even bought some (white?) wine, something neither my parents, nor I, nor my husband were known for drinking.

I consulted co-workers about the best way to cook a turkey, because I didn’t want my mother to think that I needed to cook a bird the way she did. I settled, after much office hype, on the paper bag method: Grease the inside of the bag, stick the stuffed turkey inside, and put it all in the oven.

That bird performed. It was moist and delicious, such a crowd favorite, that all these years later, I still hear about it. They all seem hung up on that part, however, about it not getting done until two hours after everything else was ready. I prefer to think of it as a multi-course meal.

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