Meleagris gallopavo Weekend

Here's hoping everyone in the USA had a happy Meleagris gallopavo weekend (that's the biological classification for turkey)..! I never knew that our Swiss Family H was so sentimental about Thanksgiving until we started spending it on a continent that doesn't celebrate. All the Europeans here with American acquaintances more or less acknowledge Thanksgiving (which is commendable), as in, "Hey, isn't this weekend your Thanksgiving holiday?" But of course, businesses and employers don't care one iota, so the fourth Thursday (and Friday) in November is usually just another cold, gray, dark November workday. Blah. It wouldn't be so terrible without the knowledge of everyone stateside cutting work early on Wednesday afternoon and subsequently preparing for a long weekend of the big F's: food, family, friends and football.

Of course, given the more than sizeable American ex-pat population in Zürich, it's not a question of IF one will attend a Thanksgiving dinner celebration, only a question of WHOSE dinner and which dish we'll be responsible for, and then primarily a grand annoyance that the whole caboodle is delayed until Saturday. Actually, now that our friend base has grown over the summer and fall, we were somewhat surprised by how many American acquaintances returned home for a quick but looong trip. Unexpectedly, we're now strongly considering it ourselves for 2009; the weekend somehow seems to hold more sentimental gravity than even Christmas. But that's the real difference, I suppose--the Europeans celebrate Christmas in spades, so it feels like less to miss.

This year, not dissimilar to last year, we stuck close with the Hyatt clan. Along with last year's hosts--Hyatt-Chicago Dave and Heather and their (relatively) new baby AND a visiting sister--we descended on the household of Stephanie's boss's boss, originally a Pennsylvanian but calling Hawaii home most recently before moving to Switzerland a few months after Steph & me. Their family--including two really nice kids aged 9 & 13 AND their pug (Hobbes's sometimes crime partner) AND also visiting grandparents--lives in Winterthur, the next sizeable town over from Zürich (where we ran the entirely uphill half-marathon last spring). The same family is planning to watch Hobbes over Christmas, so he was also invited to Thanksgiving dinner to acclimate to the environs.

Well, we enjoyed a splendid time. Saturday morning was cold, clear and gorgeously sunny (a rarity in the past month) and we spent all morning preparing Steph's grandma's recipe for mashed potatoes (should be called "mashed cream & butter accompanied by potatoes") and stuffing; only a slight stretch of imagination was required to pretend it was a Thursday. Not at all unexpectedly, the hosts and crowd were warm and ingratiating and the Thanksgiving spread was really top notch, as was the accompanying wine (as were the not-so-traditional pre-dinner martinis). Hobbes ran himself completely ragged and remains hung over now well into Monday evening due to the overwhelming combination of missing his Saturday afternoon nap + long train ride + kids + babies + dog-loving grandparents + snow + food + food + more food. We no longer worry that his spoilage factor will be (heaven forbid!) dialed down even a half-notch during our brief late December absence.



Thus notch our second successful Swiss Thanksgiving. Despite the great evening, we're still considering swinging back across the Atlantic for a quick-turnaround trip next November. You see, a lack of football while scarfing turkey really negatively affects one's digestion. Funny how I never realized that before. At least I'm fairly certain it was the football and not the martinis...