I love carving the bird, but not so much for culinary reasons.  Years ago, my cousins Dave & Miriam Witten gave Rashmika and I the carving tools you see on our table. 

Dave, who was actually my Mom’s eldest first cousin, was a Captain in the elite Army Ranger battalion, Merrill’s Marauders.  (This was the only Army Ranger battalion active in WWII, and has the rare distinction that every soldier in the battalion was awarded a Bronze Star).  The unit was assigned to “deep penetration”, their mission being to engage enemy troops in Burma.

Dave brought home the carving tools, and the beautiful peacock handled serving tools, from India.  When he and Miriam moved to Washington, DC (in, I think, 1991) they made a gift of these to Rashmika and I.  Whenever we use them I think of Dave and Miriam, two of the sweetest, most cultured people I ever knew.

And a side note, Dave is the first person I ever knew who ever told me he was going to be cremated.  This was clearly not the norm for Jewish people, and certainly not for people of Dave’s generation.  (As I recall, Dave was the oldest of the cousins and was actually about the age of my Grandmother, born around 1910.)  So I asked him about it, about not having a headstone, and I’ll always remember what he said  -  not a quote, but it was something like  -  I’ll be happy knowing people think of me kindly sometimes.  Rashmika and I think fondly of Dave and Miriam - the music, the bread - and were enriched and influenced by them.

Then of course there’s the other Thanksgiving tradition, the Absinthe.  OK, I’ll admit it’s not exactly an established tradition  -  what with Absinthe being banned in the U.S. for 92 years, and just being legalized again in 2007.  But Rashmika, David and I are going to establish this as a family tradition, starting today  -  we’ll let you know how it goes.