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Pumpkin, Pecan, Parky's
by Ginger Truitt
Originally published in The Daily Sun on November 29, 2007.
We were blessed with twenty-four people around our dinner table this year. That was down considerably from previous years and I naively thought the smaller number of guests would mean a higher chance that we could pull the meal off without a hitch. So, I opted to cook the entire dinner myself rather than have guests bring side dishes.
On the one hand, it is helpful not to have to cook everything, but on the other hand, at the end of the day, everyone takes their dishes home and the only leftovers that go into my fridge are turkey and mashed potatoes. This year I wanted to ensure that I would have a complete feast of leftovers.
We cheated a bit and ordered pecan pies from Parky’s Smokehouse, which tops the list of our favorite places to eat. I knew there was no way my feeble attempt at pecan pie could compare to the fine desserts they turn out on a daily basis. (Shameless plug worthy of a free Comfort Bread Pudding, or perhaps a complimentary basket of Fried Dill Pickles!)
As it turns out, one of the smartest things I did was place that order. If my daughter hadn’t been so excited about making her nearly famous pumpkin pies, I would have ordered those as well. Although, by noon on Thanksgiving Day we were considering breaking into Parky’s to see if they had any we could add to our dessert table.
Daughter made two beautiful apple pies, but somehow she neglected to include eggs in the pumpkin pies so she threw them out and started over.
By 10:00 on Thanksgiving Eve all of our desserts were baked, all casseroles were in the fridge, ready to slide into the oven, the Turkey was roasting, the ham was dressed, and my own special cranberry relish was chilling.
I went to bed earlier than I ever had on the night before a big shindig, and when the alarm went off the next morning, I felt confident in my decision to sleep an extra hour.
Later I was excited about how well things were coming together. When my sister called to make sure I knew it was time for the Rockettes to put in their appearance at the Macy’s parade, I was actually able to stroll into the living room and enjoy the performance. That is how Thanksgiving should be!
And then it was time to make the iced tea. I dug a measuring cup into the sugar canister and unearthed what I thought was the tine from a clear plastic fork. Upon closer examination I discovered that it was, in fact, a shard of glass. I quickly determined that the underside of the lid to the sugar canister had broken in several places.
Hubby and I had a brief, but serious discussion about the ramifications of serving food that could possibly be embedded with glass. Since we didn’t want the responsibility of anyone’s death this holiday season it was decided that he would run to the store and purchase all new ingredients and we would simply start over. At 10:45 it actually seemed feasible.
The hardest part was informing daughter that the pies she had already baked twice were going to have to be made a third time. I watched as a series of expressions crossed her lovely, teenaged face, and was proud when she chose to attack the crisis with a minimal amount of whining and only a hint of martyrdom.
We threw out the pumpkin pies, the apple pies, the sweet potatoes, the cranberry relish, the scalloped corn, and the lemonade and started pulling ingredients from the pantry so that we would be prepared to start baking as soon as hubby pulled into the drive.
But then, the phone rang. “You’ll never guess what,” hubby said with a half laugh in his voice.
I could not have guessed in a million years, although the 3000 of you that might have had turkeys baking at 11:11 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day know exactly what I’m talking about. Hubby was in line, ready to check out, when a power outage occurred.
I refrained from letting out the hysterical laugh of a madwoman, knowing there were fine folks scrambling around, leaving their own celebrations, in order to restore power to the town. But without knowing for sure how long it would take, we had to make a decision. Hubby waited a few minutes, and then drove to the next town. He honked as he passed our house, not knowing by that time the power had most likely been restored.
We did finally get to eat dinner. It was much, much later than originally anticipated, but our guests were understanding and patient, and thankful that we didn’t take any unnecessary chances with their intestinal tracts.
Daughter’s pumpkin pies turned out beautifully, the apple pie hubby purchased at Wal-mart wasn’t too bad, and we had Parky’s delicious pecan pies. Who would have guessed that on a day set aside for turkey, mashed potatoes, and green bean casseroles, one of the things I would be most thankful for would be the local barbecue restaurant!
Read more by Ginger Truitt at www.gingertruitt.com
If You Go
Parky’s is located at 2479 N. Lebanon Street. They can be reached by phone at 765-482-1 OINK (1646). Parky’s is open daily by 11:00 a.m.
