Life happens at the dinner table and at Moji's house dinner is always a feast. If it's a good day, a bad day or something to celebrate, there is always a comforting meal to match the experience.
Thanksgiving at Moji's
My memories of Thanksgiving are glorious. As first generation Kashmiri-Americans, my sister and I treasured the fact that we could participate in this secular American holiday with all our relatives. A day devoted to being grateful and showing love through food defined our own family values perfectly. My mother, or Moji, cooked her specialties for days while coordinating with friends, family and neighbors to ensure our potluck had it all. I have flashbacks of the endless buffet of fragrant traditional Kashmiri dishes on one side of the table and classic American ones on the other: rosemary and thyme bread stuffing sat opposite a tray of dried fruit and nut pulao (spiced rice); butter mashed potatoes across from delectable aloo rasedar (potato curry). Sliced cranberry and gravy shared a tray with spicy walnut, mint and coriander chutneys. The exhibition of sides was anchored by a large garam masala-brined turkey that was as much a cultural statement as it was the center of the meal. Determined to experience the dry-leaning holiday bird to its fullest, my dad, a physician would bring home syringes and methodically inject butter and spices deep into every part of the turkey. Moji, excited for the multi-cultural feast would secretly make a a large pot of rogan josh (lamb curry) or yakhni (lamb in yogurt-mint sauce) as a back up fearing no celebration was adequate without it. And of course to end the night, it was the