I had an acquaintance e-mail me after my last post, someone who I haven’t seen in a couple years and wrote, “It looks as if you have the perfect kids,” and just as I read it I was swallowing some valium on account of the constant whining and fighting, and I choked and coughed for at least 10 minutes. My throat still isn’t quite right. So if I have given anyone the impression that my kids are anything but typical, I have uploaded this video to set the record straight. It’s of my son begging to open a Christmas gift before Christmas. I didn’t videotape him to humiliate him, but to show him later when he is in his right mind, how this behavior will never get him the results he wants. I doubt that he got that message.
Our friends, Mary Ann and Kyle, have a Boxing day tradition that we love. Legend has it that it was started by our friend Susan. Everyone brings over their left over turkey and dressing and we have the best darn left over turkey sandwiches you’ve ever had. David looks more forward to the Boxing Day sandwiches than he does my actual turkey dinner, which is often a bone of contention in our marriage. Everyone brings their kids that vary in age from primary to university students and my boys love it! They usually leave a little more worldy than what they arrived, Evan acting a bit like a teenager and begging for a cell phone so he can text his “friends” from the party.
This party is very much like most kitchen parties that you’d find in Lunenburg County. The women converge to the kitchen to make the food and chat, while the men watch the hockey game in the TV room and re-live their glory days, thou slightly exaggerated. Then eventually the two groups split half and half between two rooms until the women say, “are you ready to go,” which is so often a useless question because if it usually means, “lets go”.
And while it’s true that any monkey can make a leftover turkey sandwich, there is just something about these sandwiches. They’re better than anything you’ve ever had. It could be the white bread; I never eat white bread any more. It could be the layer of dressing or the cranberry sauce. But if I were a betting girl, I’d put my chips down on the appeal really being that we’re in the company of good people who have all hit their maximum time allowance with extended family.
We all talk about our Christmas celebrations and dramas, like Rachel flying in after being stuck in an airport over night. Or that perfect gift, and that not-so-perfect gift that will never ever have a use except for the laugh it gave everyone.
So here’s the secret not-so-secret step-by-step process involved in making these kick-ass turkey sandwiches, and our recommendation that you too start a new Boxing Day tradition.
First set up an assembly line. It’s kind of like a turkey sandwich sweatshop. Everyone has a job (well, except me, I took pictures and then served the sandwiches).
Salt and pepper on the cranberry. This is not the time to worry about your salt intake.
Put them together and cut in 3 triangles. Who knew sandwiches could be cut in 3’s, but this is a very important step. I’m pretty sure that Pauline, the “cutter”, has an engineering degree, because every piece was exactly same size.
Don’t they look fantastic? Place on a tray and pass. You’ll need to do this several times, and take 15 minute breaks so that they can settle. People have been known to go back to Mary Ann’s days after for more. Yes, David is one of them.
The dessert usually is squares and chocolates left over from the holidays that people bring to get them out of their house.
And now for the next year, I will hear from David, “Remember those turkey sandwiches? Man they were good.”