Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving Dinner

Thanksgiving is such a weird holiday—paradoxically variable and consistent throughout the country. Most people’s dinners involve turkey, and thus involve spending at least an hour, if not more, waiting for that stupid popper thing to stick up. Most people endure a phenomenal array of family oddities at their finest, and most people acknowledge that this holiday marks the moment at which Christmas advertising, music, and decorations are officially acceptable (yes, I’m talking to you, Target—Christmas ads in mid-October are not okay).

But Thanksgiving also plays host to huge differences in traditions as well. I knew a girl in high school who was first generation Korean, so her family—almost entirely unfamiliar with the Thanksgiving spectacle—would place a roast turkey smack in the middle of an otherwise strictly Korean feast. My family usually does Thanksgiving at my cousin’s house, where an otherwise fairly classic turkey day dinner begins with colorful antipasto platters in accordance with their father, who is the complete embodiment of everything Italian. Some groups watch a movie in between dinner and dessert, while in other families it’s typical to watch football at some point in the evening. And, on that note, some people start the meal at two in the afternoon, while others don’t eat until nine (which, more often than not, is the fault of that stupid popper thing. Seriously, do those ever work for anyone!?)

I decided last year, when I moved into an on-campus apartment with a kitchen, to host a Thanksgiving dinner for my friends the weekend before we all left for Thanksgiving break to deal with our respective families, turkeys, etc. It was a huge amount of fun, and a good excuse to put on pearls, heels, and a pretty dress, and to spend the whole day cooking and being stereotypically domestic.

Since it was such a success, I decided to do it again this year. I now live in an even bigger on-campus apartment than last year and I had also learned from my mistakes the first time around, so it was easier and even more fun this time.

Mistake #1 the first time around: Asking people to bring wine, forgetting I don’t own a corkscrew. Mistake #2: In the absence of a roasting pan, trying to construct one out of foil and a cookie sheet. Chicken grease. Everywhere.

So with corkscrew and roasting pan in hand, I took a hiatus from daily life the Saturday before break, and set about making this year’s dinner for six people. Curried butternut squash soup, buttermilk rolls, sweet potato and marshmallow pie, scalloped potatoes, garlicky roasted Brussels sprouts, stuffing, roasted chicken (because who even likes turkey anyway. And seriously, that popper…), gravy, apple pie, apple cider, and vanilla ice cream. Hungry yet?

And the best part is, I managed to procure the ingredients for all of these things at Wegmans for under $100 ($94.56, to be exact).

My roommate/best friend/sous-chef helped me with some last minute Hillside runs for a couple of things I forgot to get at Wegmans, and collected leaves outside to make a pretty center piece with our pumpkin that was leftover from Halloween (yeah, I don’t know why it’s not moldy yet either). Our other best friend came over early to help hang up some quaint lights to set the atmosphere.

With a little improvising (read: using a tiny teapot as a gravy boat) and a lot of effort, the whole thing came together beautifully. By the end of the night, everyone seemed giddy and pleasantly stuffed, saying what every collegiate hostess wants to hear: “I’ve had such a stressful week. This is exactly what I needed!”

It was classy (well, as classy as a college dinner party can be… We did name our food babies, after all), it was yummy, and it was the perfect precursor to actual Thanksgiving.