Every year this happens. Every stinking year.  The question of the pies comes up, and I insist on making them because store-bought pies taste like crap and are generally not worth eating. So I say I'll make the pies.  I love pecan pie; it's my favorite dessert.  So I make a pecan pie or two, and then some 'decoy' pies so that I'll get enough of a pecan-pie fix to last me a year.  The decoy pies are usually pumpkin.  Pumpkin pie epitomizes everything that's wrong with this holiday.

I hate that I'm such a perfectionist. Why, oh why, didn't I just buy the crappy pumpkin pie from Fry's for three measly bucks?  Sure, it would taste like crap, but there's only so much you can do to make squash custard NOT taste like crap.  Getting the fresh ginger, and whole cream, and home made crust is just like gilding a turd. Tasting like a second-class dessert is what pumpkin pie is all about. 

Let's face it: traditional Thanksgiving food is starvation-fare made to  commemorate white settlers who had to rob from dead Indians' graves to survive their first winter.  Overcooked root vegetables, chicken's ugly step-cousin, and starches drenched in fat and salt. That's hardly a feast.  One year I tried to make a real meal, you know, like a dinner party?  With fresh ingredients and creative dishes?  Man, I got such a ration of sh*t for that. Waaah! It's not traditional.

Here' s what invariably happens.  I spend an hour or so making dough.  While I'm making dough, I have to take breaks to do dishes, because baking involves an endless parade of dirty bowls and measuring utensils.  Then I mix the pumpkin filling.  The recipe on the back of the can thinks that we all bake in soup turreens, and  one batch makes enough for one and a half or two pies, though I somehow always forget that, and end up having an extra pie or two worth of filling that has to be dealt with.  Then I forget that you can't bake four pies at once, especially in a tiny oven.  By the time I'm on the fourth pie, it's late, I'm sick to death of baking (though I generally like baking), I'm shouting and the kitchen is a disgusting mess.

The next day, the pies look puny and gross, and there's usually a crack in the custard, and sometimes the nuts are burned, or it doesn't taste good because I always forget that I don't like the dark sugar/corn syrup version.  If I'm REALLY dumb, and have volunteered to cook the meal as well, I spend all of Thursday in the kitchen, and by the time the meal comes I'm exhausted and can't appreciate the food.  I wish I weren't such a damn perfectionist.  No, I can't use short cuts, I have to use fresh sage from my garden, and real vegetables, and boil the potatoes and mash them by hand (though I hate mashed potatoes and don't eat them. Yuck. Baby food.)  And even if you know what you're doing (and brine the bird in advance--another huge step, and rotate it or carve it in advance, also a huge mess), turkey never tastes as good as chicken.

I don't LIKE this food, my waistline doesn't NEED this food and I'd like to have a holiday that makes people feel THANKFUL rather than GLUTTONOUS.  Why can't we do the Yom Kippur thing and fast for a day instead?  I love having my family around, but why do we have to do the huge ugly meal thing?  Why can't we just play cards and have sandwiches?

The only thing I'm thankful for right now is that we don't do the most common Thankskiving traditions: starting fights with family members, and emphasising that women should work in the kitchen while men watch football.  I'm thankful that this crap only happens once a year.