Thanksgiving Etiquette: Don’t Be a Turkey

 

In movie terms, a “turkey” is a flop; in slang it means a foolish or obnoxious person. Thanksgiving is my favorite American holiday because it is the most democratic. It doesn’t overtly involve religion, gift-giving, commercialism, or anguish (beyond properly timing the bird). It’s devoted to food, friends, family, and thankfulness. Yet, a non-edible turkey can ruin the day. Here are some tips for hosts and guests, the common denominator being: Don’t be a turkey.

 

If you are hosting, advise guests in advance that politics are off the table for everyone. It’s not exactly breaking news that Americans are deeply divided, which is true even for those who think they’re on the same side. For instance, many liberals disagree vehemently about the Israel versus Palestine conflict. A metaphorical show of hands if an angry argument over politics ever made wish to emigrate to Mongolia. Hosts should remind everyone to avoid politics and shut down anyone who violates that wish. You don’t have to get huffy about it; just a friendly-but-firm reminder that everyone has agreed to leave political battles for another day.

 

If you’re a guest, remember that you are in someone else’s home and they get to set the house rules. Bringing up contentious topics when asked not to is just as rude as passing gas.

 

Guests should adopt a mind-your-own-business (MYOB) attitude for the day. Chances are good that someone will be gay, lesbian, transgender, an aluminum siding salesperson, have green hair, have ugly tattoos, or possess some other quality that makes you uncomfortable. It is hypercritical to MYOB if it’s a relative or friend of one. Poet Robert Frost once sagaciously observed, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Codicil: That doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk.

 

Whether you are host or guest, if you invite someone to dinner who might stick out like the proverbial sore thumb, stick close to them and sit with them. Every family has the equivalent of Oscar the Grouch, so don’t set up that person for a miserable experience unless that guest is comfortable dealing with cranks. Surprisingly, many people are, but let that be their choice not the product of some anal seating arrangement.

 

Never criticize the food– even if it sucks! If you’re vegetarian, vegan, or subsist on road kill, stay home. There was a recent Boston Globe article about a man who has hosted Thanksgiving for decades and has grown so sick of guests who announce their food preferences as they walk through the door that his invites come with the advice that if you are vegan or vegetarian, “Bring your own disgusting food with you.” That’s harsh, but we’ve all been there, yes?

 

Hosts, be chill; it’s a real bummer when the host collapses with a nervous breakdown. Get a large bunch of people in one room and chances are good something will go wrong–a spilled drink, a broken plate, a gravy spill…. These are trivial things. Don’t try to be Martha Stewart perfect. Even if you pulled it off you’d make your guests uptight. The point of the day is to be grateful for one another’s company.

 

It’s not necessary for a host to make so many dishes that a solid oak table bows in the middle. If you have enough food for all, it’s fine to make just a few side dishes instead of trying to replicate a Norman Rockwell Saturday Evening Post Thanksgiving. For the record, the Saturday Evening Post ceased publication in 1969, about the time standards became less formal. It’s also not a good time to experiment with recipes you’ve never made before. Plus, inevitably numerous people will bring a favorite Aunt Edith recipe, even though you’ve said, “Just bring yourself.” Men will bring myrrh, which is actually a bottle of Johnny Walker.    

 

Guests, offer to help, be it carrying items to the groaning board or volunteering to wash the dishes. Chances are approximately 99.43 to 1 your offer will be politely refused, but it’s a nice gesture. 

 

Turn-offs for most: (1) Hogs at the trough. (2) Thinking your young kids are so wonderful that everyone will think so. (3) Young kids preparing food. (4) Discussing medical issues at the table. (5) Using cellphones at the table.

 

Guys, no football until the meal is done, the table cleared, and you are banished to the TV room. Rushing to the TV with your plate in hand makes you an inconsiderate gobbler and a sexist in the eyes of many women. You’re a double turkey if you see everything related to the feast as “women’s work.” 

 

Getting plastered or stoned is an absolute no-no. It’s not a bad idea for the host or a trusted friend to designate someone to deal with such an unfortunate event. Don’t let a loud-mouthed lush or rambling space cadet ruin everyone’s day. You can and should drive that person home, but first separate the person from others, perhaps a room where the turkey can return to the planet. 

 

Non-negotiable: You can have as many kinds of pie as you wish, but one of them must be pumpkin. Not squash. Not sweet potato. Not yam.  P-U-M-P-K-I-N. If you disagree, we can’t talk. Ditto if you think carob is “just as good” as chocolate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dream of the Middle Ages at Beynac

                                         

 

This might have been my favorite place that I visited. Like many places in the Périgord, it is rich with history but this one not only engages the imagination, it sends it into high gear.

 

The “et” alerts us that two small villages have been combined into a single administrative unit (commune), that collectively contain but 447 residents. When you are in the region through which the Dordogne River flows, wine, fois gras, truffles, walnuts, cheese, duck, goose, and pork roasted in duck fat are staples. To my taste buds, all but the fois gras (duck liver) are quite tasty.

 

The other unavoidable reality is that Eleanor of Aquitaine will be mentioned. When you hear that name, you know you are in an area that was contested during the Hundred Years War (1337-1453). Some quick arithmetic will tell you that the struggles between the French and English crowns is misnamed, as it actually took 116 years. Is that because the “116 Year War” doesn’t roll off the tongue. Not exactly. During the period known as feudalism, you can’t think of “France” or “England” as you would like today’s nation-states. Wealth was measured by land and it didn’t need to be contiguous. The Aquitaine region of modern France often saw the English nobles and kings own more land than the French, which was sort of what was behind the Hundred Years War. (A bigger reason was dispute over the rightful heirs to the thrones of each country.) Eleanor factors prominently into this, as she was married to Louis VII, King of France from 1137-1152. Louis had his marriage to Eleanor annulled on the grounds of consanguinity (being too closely related), but she subsequently married Henry II of England. Though she was 11 years older (30) than Henry, she bore eight children between 1152 and 1189, five of them sons. Three, Henry the Young, Richard, and John, were anointed as English kings whilst William and Goffrey became the dukes of  Poitiers and Brittany.  Matilda, Joan, and Eleanor Junior, married into royal families (Saxony, Castille, and Sicily).  

 

One historian aptly labeled Eleanor’s children a “den of vipers” that allied with or fought against their father depending on how the winds of ambition blew. When Henry died in 1189, Richard became King of England, though he spoke Occitan and Gascon, dialects related to French. He spent less than six months of his ten-year-reign in England and perhaps never spoke a word of English.

 

What’s this have to do with Beynac? The Beynac line died out in the 12^th century and guess who inherited the castle. A gold star if you guessed Eleanor of Aquitaine. She gave the castle to Richard (as the third son he never expected to be king, but his older brothers predeceased him). A lot of what most people think of as medieval times occurred during Richard’s reign. He spent four years of at the Third Crusade (1189-93), battled Saladin, and was seldom out of armor. By the time of his death in 1199, English vassals owned more land in France than the French king, hence his sobriquet Richard the Lionheart. 

 

 

Alas for England, when Richard died in 1199, the crown went to Eleanor’s youngest son, John, often considered the worst king in English history for losing much of the land Henry II and Richard gained (including Beynac), and so much control over the English aristocracy that was forced to sign the Magna Carta. He is the only King John of England and a future monarch wouldn’t dare assume his name!

 

Getting back to Beynac, the château and castle sit high above the Dordogne River, prone to being swallowed by morning fog. It’s relatively empty, as most castles were. Few kings had just one castle. Most shifted royal residences several times a year, moves that entailed moving wall hangings, kitchen utensils, beds, chairs, etc. from one place to another. Only things like feasting tables were left behind because they were too massive to move. Beynac’s sparse furnishings allows you to imagine the dampness, darkness, rush-covered floors, fireplaces whose heat seldom filled a room, austere furnishings, the bustle of the kitchen, courtiers in echoey chambers, and servants and plotters clattering on stone steps. Build your own mental castle!

 

The village below is the usual assortment of small shops, eateries, services, and stone blocks. The riverfront village is built for ambling. Beynac is also a place where the Dordogne is wide and deep enough for boat sightseeing, the subject of a future travelogue.     

 

Rob Weir