I came along late in their lives, (SURPRISE!!), so I can’t vouch for what happened earlier in his life, but this is my history thus: my dad was born in 1913, so he was from a different time. My mom was born in 1919. I remember them saying things like, “a child is to be seen and not heard”. It was the tradition in that period that the men ate in the “dining room” FIRST, then the women ate in the same room, then whatever left was fed to the children in the kitchen. (As crazy as that sounds in these days of feeding the kids first, I, as one of those children then, never wanted for too much, as my current robust health testifies.) I guess you could call it “food politics”. That’s when “the woman’s place was in the home”. With all this posturing, a “man " cooking was a bit—how should I say it--odd. Different.
My dad did not care. He usually repeated this turkey-dressing feat at Christmas, but Thanksgiving was the priority. Outside of these yearly duties, breakfast was his only culinary expertise—in the mornings or sometimes for supper. Most folks around Hartley would be surprised, my dad was not the guy you would expect to fix a great Thanksgiving feast. He would fix your International irrigation engine, but not dinner. Every year he tried different things. He baked the bird in a paper bag, or he would open roast it, basting it hourly. It was his profound pleasure to create a moist turkey. But it was not his turkey I am here to talk about. It is the dressing.
Thanksgiving dressing is a VERY controversial subject. Trust me, after years in the beauty salon, I know. Most recipes are protected with some sort of vigilante attitude. Bread? Cornbread? Sage? Sausage? The arguments were never-ending, and sometimes bordered on violent! Well at our house, it was cornbread dressing.
My mother would bake the cornbread, stone ground cornbread from a recipe in her head that was never written down. For weeks, she would have been freezing day old bread, dinner rolls, hamburger buns...any other bread that might be getting a little dry and could be used for this as well. Thanksgiving Eve, Daddy would begin the process of turning that bread and cornbread into dressing. When I was older, I watched to see how he did it—because it was and still is my favorite of the Thanksgiving meal! You can all have your pies and cakes, just give me a big heap of dressing and gravy! Daddy chopped all the vegetables, and mushed all the breads and broth with his hands until it was the proper moistness, then baked it golden brown—just right to soak up all that giblet gravy!!
He usually baked the dressing the night before because he thought it had a better flavor after sitting overnight, and he would need their one oven for the turkey and all the other goodies the next day. While he tried different cooking methods on the turkey, the dressing never changed. I have considered trying different dressing recipes through the years, but when my daughters would find out my intentions, they would blanche. “What? You are not making Grandaddy’s dressing???” So, I have never tried any of those sausage or cranberry dressings. But that's ok, this one ROCKS.
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