You'd think that I'd be rushing to her table every Thanksgiving wouldn't you? But I don't. You see, Thanksgiving, given that we grew up in France, is one of those holidays that we adopted as grown-ups. We never had a Thanksgiving tradition growing up, so, once we'd moved to the United States, each to our respective sides of the country, we adopted our respective spouses' Thanksgiving tradition.
In short, she celebrates Thanksgiving at her inlaws' table with their very extended family. I celebrate Thanksgiving with my inlaws, more often than not at their country club.
In the past I've been fine with this separation. The country club meals were always festive and delicious and I've enjoyed hearing tales of their significantly busier event. This year however, I'm hosting Thanksgiving for the first time. Only a handful of people in attendance, and, as I start to plan my menu, I find myself wishing again and again that my sister could be planning with me.
My table will be beautiful and the food will be plentiful, oh how plentiful, and it will be a lovely event, but the sounds of her four children playing with my two would make it even sweeter, and having her cooking by my side would be simply wonderful.
Alas, wishes are rarely enough to make people appear in your kitchen, so I'll have to do the one thing that will make my sister and her family feel a tiny bit closer. I'm making her carrot pudding.
I know. Carrot pudding. Doesn't sound all that great. But, suffice it to say that this is the one "orange" vegetable dish that my husband will eat, ask for seconds of, and then have more for lunch the next day. It is utterly delectable.
I'm not going to share the recipe with you here, that would be too easy! Instead, I'm going to invite you to leave me a comment below sharing one of your own favorite foodie/family Thanksgiving memories. Cardstore will send you a sweet card from me containing the delectable recipe along with a Cardstore discount code to order a card of your own!
Please note: This post was sponsored by Cardstore. The stories, opinions, etc are mine and mine alone. (Except for the photo, that was borrowed, with permission, from my sister.)