Sauerkraut for Thanksgiving..

24 Nov

Thanksgiving.  Turkey, beans, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sauerkraut………….hold the phone.

Sauerkraut?

Yup.  I have been alive for 29 Thanksgivings and I am almost positive that sauerkraut has been served at every single last one of them…and it will be served until I am old and bat-crazy and have forgotten where I have placed my teeth.

I never knew where it came from, or why we ate it..or more importantly why we never ate it any day other than Thanksgiving.  I always assumed that it was like cranberry sauce from a can.  It was lovely and delicious but you just didn’t eat it if it wasn’t the fourth Thursday in November.  I also didn’t realize that this wasn’t on every other families table on Thanksgiving day.  Not until my 25th Thanksgiving.  Dave & I had been married a little over a month and we went to my parents for Thanksgiving.  Since we moved away from Maryland (in 1989) we always had small Thanksgiving dinners (party of three) when I brought Dave a long for our first Thanksgiving as a married couple it was a special treat.  We sat down to a lovely meal and the boy who I have seen down an entire pot of Kale took one look at the Sauerkraut and passed it along to me.  He insisted he had only heard of kraut on hotdogs.

I figured it must be a southern thing..since my family was rooted with deep Maryland bloodlines I figured that MUST be the case.

Again, wrongo.

I came across this article on Monday night..and suddenly it ALL made sense.  My grandparents (stay tuned for a fun little tidit on them) grew up in Baltimore…so apparently it’s just a Baltimore thing.

Oh well, Holden & his wife better serve me sauerkraut on Thanksgiving when I am 90 or else I’ll be pissed..and toothless..

(Fun Fact:  My great-grandfather was live when Abraham Lincoln was president.  If I have done my math correctly…my GREAT-grandfather..please keep in mind that this was in 1865.  Over 200 years ago.  My great-grandfather.. the man who birthed my grandfather..my mom’s grandfather.. was  a wee boy when he was assassinated.  My grandfather (who I never met because he died when my mom was in college..because let’s face it..dude was old..) was born in 1897).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

%d bloggers like this: