Canadian Thanksgiving! Eat More Lamb!

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This past weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving, which is like American Thanksgiving, but I don't think it's about stealing land from Native Americans. And if it was, we would probably be more polite.

Canadians still eat most of the same food that Americans do, except we don't have that fizzy apple cider, or green bean casserole, or the jello that is only allowed to be eaten with dinner one day a year. My family added lamb to our repertoire this year, I guess because we didn't have enough food. I think we could have fed 20 people. Or 13 Marijans & Co.. There was so much food, in fact, that halfway through dinner my cousin leans over to me and asks if my mom made [the famous] sweet potato casserole. She had. It was still in the freezer. My mom had been so proactive in making it a week in advance that she forgot about it. But my mum is clever, and on tossing the casserole in the oven she dubbed the dish "Sweet Potato Crisp". And there was much rejoicing. We added it to our dessert course, which almost immediately followed our dinner course.

Ever since I can remember, our family has had eating competitions. Not gross, Man vs. Food, challenges, more slow and steady eating challenges. And often I won. I took pride in this...until I turned 19 and learned that gorging yourself on ice cream cake has its consequences. This Thanksgiving was Challenge: Lamb Chops. The cousin was dethroned in this event by the sister's BF...the cousin who consistently fills his plate almost entirely with meat. 

My kind-hearted mother bought some Tupperware containers so that my sister and I could bring some leftovers home the next day, but there were two problems. First, we had eaten most of the food so there wasn't much to bring home. Second, after one meal of leftovers the thought of ever eating a turkey dinner again made me want to hurl.

I was determined to eat nothing but soup and salad all week so that I would undo the damage that this weekend had caused. That went well until today. There was a dessert potluck at work, because apparently we hadn't eaten enough on the weekend (I didn't even mention that I had gone to the Cheesecake Factory the night before Thanksgiving dinner. Enough said.). I remember reading the headline, a while back, to an article entitled, "Is Your Job Making You Fat?". And while I was eating brownies and shortbread-wrapped Toblerone bar, I reflected on this article. I don't remember what it said, but I don't think it matters. I thought, "Yes, my job is making me fat." And so are holidays.

I guess that's why there are only a few in a year. Hopefully they balance out in the end. I'm eating salad for dinner.