A few years back, I made the decision to stop preparing a traditional Thanksgiving feast for my family, and it’s arguably one of the best choices we’ve made. I say “we” because my partner suggested that I forgo the turkey, noting the return on investment was just too disappointing. (I can roast a turkey like nobody’s business, but even a perfectly cooked turkey remains—let’s be honest—a roasted turkey.)
While my partner took the kids to a movie in the early afternoon (yes, I know many people enjoy their Thanksgiving meal during lunch, but that’s a mystery I’ll never unravel), I was left scrambling to whip up the turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and salad. Later, my aunt would roast beets, my mom would prepare cranberry sauce, and we would invite family friends who often brought their own dishes—typically of the Chinese variety.
The kids would take a few bites of the home-cooked spread and then quickly request pizza and chicken nuggets.
Returning to My Roots
Long before the pandemic, we embraced my roots and reinstated our tradition of dining at a Chinese restaurant for Thanksgiving. This is distinct from our restaurant Christmas tradition, which also involves Chinese cuisine but occurs on a different holiday.
As a child, I never really enjoyed Thanksgiving food. Perhaps this stemmed from growing up in an immigrant household—no one knew how to prepare the classic dishes, and the obligatory expressions of gratitude felt insincere. Honestly, I can’t even remember what we ate for Thanksgiving during my childhood. It probably blurred together with our other “special” meals, likely consisting of hot pot, teppanyaki, or fancier Chinese dishes my mom would cook. Occasionally, there would be a roast duck from our local Asian market.
It wasn’t until joining a Chinese church and meeting more of my mom’s friends from Taiwan that I encountered traditional Thanksgiving dinners. The only turkey I knew came from the unappetizing TV dinners served in school. To say I was unimpressed would be an understatement.
When more families began to immigrate, there would always be at least one who had never experienced a “real” American Thanksgiving. Our potlucks filled with incredible homemade Chinese food would often feature a sad, dry pre-cooked turkey sitting on the counter, while the real stars of the meal—like that delicious duck and flavorful rice—were devoured quickly.
Aside from mashed potatoes and gravy (what’s not to love about carbs drenched in fat?), I never understood why American holiday meals were so lackluster. Each year, I lamented the waste of food, but I suppose the tradition of having turkey congee the next day made it somewhat worthwhile. Eventually, when the kids grew older, my parents decided it was no longer worth the trouble, leading to the birth of our Chinese restaurant Thanksgiving tradition.
So, Why Bother?
When I had children of my own, I initially wanted to create a Thanksgiving experience for them that felt quintessentially “American.” My partner grew up in a household where his mother prepared the full Thanksgiving dinner, and since we rarely saw his family, I thought it would be nice to recreate that tradition for our kids.
Part of me wanted my kids to experience the nostalgia and bonding that comes with shared customs and celebrations, especially since my own upbringing often felt different from those around me. Additionally, I thought preparing Thanksgiving dinner was part of being a responsible adult, a role I hoped to embody (though I’ve learned that’s not me).
Fortunately, my partner realized how unhappy it made me before I did.
Looking back, to have a truly authentic American Thanksgiving, we’d need to acknowledge a history of genocide and enslaved labor, dressed up as Manifest Destiny, and then pass these damaging narratives down to our children. Too soon for that conversation?
Now, I simply make a reservation at our favorite Chinese restaurant for Thanksgiving (and Christmas) or, during these pandemic times, I order takeout. Last year, I picked up the food a day early since the restaurant was closed on the holiday—it was still delicious.
The Best Part
So, what’s the best aspect of ordering Chinese takeout for Thanksgiving? Everything! Seriously, every single part.
It saves me from the overwhelming stress of preparing a meal, which involves so much labor. I no longer have to worry about hunting down the perfect turkey (organic, of course) before they’re all sold out, figuring out whether to freeze it, when to defrost it, brining it for 24 hours, or dealing with the mess of raw turkey juice spilling all over my fridge.
I don’t need to plan a menu, coordinate what others should bring, or even consider desserts and drinks. Unless guests are coming over, I can skip the cleaning marathon beforehand. Plus, I avoid the endless leftovers that I’d dread eating for a year before facing the whole ordeal again.
All I have to do is hand over some of my money, pay the wonderful staff at my local restaurant, and enjoy my meal. Boom. Done.
Moreover, my kids learn the invaluable lesson that we can decide how to spend our precious time—without ever having to eat a dry, boring turkey.
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Summary:
In our family, we’ve turned Thanksgiving into a delightful tradition of ordering Chinese takeout rather than preparing the traditional turkey feast. This decision not only saves us from the stress and chaos associated with cooking but also allows us to enjoy a meal that aligns with our cultural roots. Our kids learn the importance of choosing how to spend our family time, and we relish in the joy of great food without the hassle.
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