My parents came for my Thanksgiving breakfast. It was so lovely to see them. As my mother is not quite senile yet and having a good day, she was welcomed me into her arms and ate with gusto.
My mother taught me to cook. I remember making curry for the first time for myself like she did. I called to get her recipe. Her curry was always creamy mustard color and had raisins and cloves in it. She would add potatoes and some kind of meat and pour it over rice. It was so yummy. She would make this meal at least once a month.
In her response to my request, she proceeded to tell me to make a roux, and add chicken stock, then potatoes and meat and all else of wonders. I can’t remember it.
Her Thanksgivings were always a feast! Full spread of Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberry sauce, bowls of olives, bowl of pickles, rolls with apple, pumpkin and mincemeat pies for desert. She would unroll her Thanksgiving tablecloth over our grand table and use the dishes edged with 24k gold. Guests would tromp in and partake of food and fun.
My mother, the cook.