Ghetto Nerd Working Class Dreams of High-End Eating: I Wish You Well This Thanksgiving as I Cook Beef Bourguignon While Reflecting on a History of Unorthodox Holiday Meals

[Update: I lost my battle with that great foe beef bourguignon today. Again, I am reminded to always follow my own instincts, as opposed to surrendering to a cookbook or the Food Network's dictums. Mr. Beef Bourguignon, I salute you. We will do battle again on Christmas Day.]

I hope that you are all having a nice and restful day. Do something nice for yourselves and for someone less fortunate too.

As an only child with a finicky sense of taste, I was not forced to eat turkey during Thanksgiving.

This choice made for fond memories. For example, two of my favorite Thanksgiving experiences consist of meals at a takeout Chinese restaurant, and an amazing Chicken and pita with fries from the local Greek diner after going bowling with my mother and father. I doubt we would have had that fun if I was not a brat, one usually (but not always) polite, who refused to eat what our hosts had cooked for us. The food was not very good. I suspect my parents were happy that I provided them an excuse to leave early.

While my family is very working class (and barely so), on Thanksgivings past my father would indulge us with beef roast, pork loin, lobster, and other goodies. It was a running joke with my friends who loved to goof on me about the elaborate meals that the DeVega clan--all three of us and our dogs--ate during Thanksgiving and the holidays. And yes, the dogs got to eat the innards from the obligatory turkey or Cornish game hen my mother insisted on eating for dinner.

In those moments when I was getting ribbed by my good friends, I smiled. My internal monologue was a bit more mixed emotionally. Yes, we had some good eating during the holidays. But, my friends families owned their homes, multiple cars, and paid for their kids' college without the latter needing to take out onerous loans. I let the pretense stand for purposes of pride and to respect my father's magnanimity and generosity.

Growing to adulthood means that we have to balance our smiles and cries.

What a person eats is a reflection of who they are. Today, my Thanksgiving meal will consist of beef bourguignon over egg noodles and some obligatory garlic bread. I will be sharing my meal with one other soul who is my professional taster. She is a happy eater, always fair but encouraging, and good with feedback on my efforts at cooking.

My odd sense of taste was/is a blessing and a curse at the holidays (as well as when I am invited over people's homes for dinner, more generally). I am polite and enthusiastic, so I will try just about anything a host prepares--as long as they do not force it on me and insist that I eat more than I would like. As a child, and now an adult, I came to realize that I don't like collard greens, mac and cheese out of the box (unless it is very skillfully prepared...and even then it reminds me of worms or some futuristic Soylent Green type food substitute), or sweet potatoes.

I am also not a fan of holding hands in some forced ceremony of thanks and grace. When in Rome do as the Romans; thus, I offer up something if it is demanded as the price of entry, and being included in a family's tradition.

I will not promise to suppress my laughter if your aunt or grandma starts speaking in tongues at the Thanksgiving dinner table. Yes, this did happen to me once. I was forewarned. It made the moment no less bizarre and hilarious.

[After much experimentation, my version of beef bourguignon uses very little flour, adds more rosemary than thyme, and I have settled on cooking the vegetables and mushrooms in two batches. The first goes into the pot and cooks down over time. The second batch goes in at the end with some extra wine, a whee bit of beef stock if necessary, and a touch of pepper. I buy chuck meat and cut it into large pieces myself. I then brown the meat with bacon fat in an extremely hot iron skillet.]

In total, I have a few dishes that I would compare to anything one could buy at a restaurant. I have many more dishes that are works in progress.

And yes, there are a few which are utter failures every time I endeavor to make them--what is the secret of frying fresh mozzarella? Why is my fried chicken always so meh? Is it that hard to make a fried Puerto Rican style pork sandwich with onions at home? How come I cannot resist the urge to look in the oven, and to monitor my beef bourguignon as it is cooking? I need to monitor the dish to scrape the fond off the bottom of the pot, but I peek too often. Why do I not have a sense of trust!

For those cooks with more talent and experience than me, what are your tips and tricks in the kitchen? Those little touches to a given dish which separate the average from the great, and tricks of the trade that you wish you had known years ago?