“Over The River and Through the Woods to 1621 We Go.”

“Over The River and Through the Woods to 1621 We Go.”

I’m stuck holding the turkey drumstick. This year, the Thanksgiving hostess baton passed to my trembling outstretched hand. In desperate need of a blueprint, I figured if you want something done right go to the source. What better guide for my inaugural Thanksgiving preparations than that first meal 389 years ago?

Just like it will be in my side yard. Except we have a black lab.

 The Pilgrims were overjoyed with their harvest. They had plenty to store for the coming winter and threw a feast to celebrate their bounty. Alas, I have nothing from my summer garden but about three-quarters of a cup of butter peas in my freezer. Where was Squanto when I needed help shelling and finding more freezer space?

Those first frigid months, the numbers of the colonists steadily declined. Afraid the Native Americans would discover how outnumbered they were, the New Englanders buried their loved ones in secret that harsh winter. My ancestor, Edward Fuller, and his wife, Ann didn’t make it through those brutal months. Son Samuel, at twelve years, found himself one of the handful of orphans left first winter.

Likewise, this has been a rough year for our household’s beta fish population. It is a blessing that a passing beta fish rarely leaves baby betas behind to fret over. Not that my children haven’t tried. Funny though, seems mommy and daddy beta fish don’t like each other very much. Makes you wonder how there’s a never-ending supply on store shelves to take home?

Earlier in 1621 after months of watching and waiting, Massasoit and colonists signed a peace agreement. So first up on my holiday agenda is a peace summit between my three children. Not sure how this will work, but most probably any success will involve lots of shiny trinkets and candy.

Then there was Edward Doty, another ancestor of mine who sailed on the Mayflower as one of Steven Hopkins’ two servants. A few months after arrival, Uncle Doty and this fellow servant injured themselves in a duel. They were sentenced to having their heads and feet tied together.  A most creative punishment I’ll be sure to pull out in the spirit of the holiday when youngin’s start tearing apart each other’s Lego wigwams.

The colonists described Indian warriors as strong, tall with long black hair tied into knots and often wearing only loin cloths in spite of the harsh weather. They carried bows five and half feet in length with up to 50 arrows — each longer than a yard — in their quiver.  For our meal, I must insist on a pat down at the door and that everyone be properly dressed. Though if a stunning Wampanoag king should happen to knock, I won’t press the issue.

I doubt white starched cloths lined the tables or there were many tables at all. Forks didn’t appear in the colony till much later. This resulted in lots of standing, squatting and eating with fingers. These changes are sure to popular with younger crowd and my husband.

For the menu itself, there was plenty of migrating ducks and geese, wild turkeys, deer, and corn. And all was washed down with beer as barley was a plentiful harvest. Check, check, check, check and double check.

With luck and God’s grace, I’ll serve an authentic feast that would have made our forefathers proud. Though handicapped without a Squanto, I do have one benefit in preparing this meal almost 400 years after the Pilgrims. 1-800-BUTTERBALL.