It’s not Thanksgiving in China until you bring the turkey legs you bought online to the butcher shop across the street, because they do not fit in the slow-cooker. It’s not really Thanksgiving until the lady in the butcher shop hacks each turkey leg in half with one swing of the cleaver and refuses the 10rmb you give her for saving Thanksgiving.
I’m thankful every year for being able to bring a bit of normalcy to my live in China by celebrating American holidays, even if a can of pumpkin puree costs $8 and a 4kg turkey will set you back almost $70. I’m thankful for friends who don’t mind squeezing around our tiny black dining table. I’m thankful for D humoring my silly ambitions to cook dinner for 11 people every year. I’m thankful for canned cranberry sauce that I bought off of Taobao. And most of all, I’m thankful that my ayi comes on Mondays to help deal with the dish-maggedon of the post-thanksgiving feast.