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Nothing says Thanksgiving like a turkey with all the trimmings. That is， unless you’re in my family.
When my kids were small， they had multiple food 1）allergies—all three of them different. The main suspects were wheat， dairy and sugar. Lesser offenders were chocolate， food dyes and random chemical additives. In short， anything a child would want to eat. I challenge anyone to prepare a festive meal with those 2）parameters.
There was a time when I dreaded a celebratory dinner more than the poor， soonto-be-butchered turkey did. He， by the time he graced my table， would be feeling no pain. I， on the other hand， would suffer for hours. But with practice， I got it down to a fine art.
As the children grew they were able to tolerate more foods. For a while I could see a light at the end of the dietary tunnel. However， in a bit of 3）nostalgia I find puzzling， they viewed those difficult years with fondness and have revisited the time of restricted diets. All three became vegetarians as teenagers. One even crossed to the “dark side” of vegetarianism， becoming a vegan. She maintains it still， with the occasional 4）lapse for a 5）hunk of cheese or an egg—and that’s only because her doctor told her she needed more food in her food.
I realize that vegetarians and vegans can have healthy diets. I have no quarrel with that. It’s just that when I am charged with serving dinner to a crowd， accommodating all the 6）idiosyncrasies is difficult. I often suspect they are yanking my chain and trying to find my breaking point. It’s not far off.
My kids have attached themselves to friends and partners with equally difficult diets. While other families may strive for ethnic diversity at their holiday tables， we strive for dietary diversity. Never mind black， white， Asian， Muslim…we have vegetarians， vegans， gluten- and dairy-intolerant guests， meat eaters， someone avoiding sugar， and a family member with 7）Crohn’s disease.
My dilemma starts with the turkey. Each year， I splash out and order an organic， 8）freerange turkey from the local health food store. After being assured that the bird has spent more time at the spa than I have and is therefore a happy， relaxed creature， I reason that such an extravagance can be justified. The rest of the year I buy whatever meat is on sale.
Since the turkey is fresh， not frozen， it must be picked up the day before the holiday. It occurs to me that for the price I’m paying for this bird， it should be chauffeur-driven to my doorstep and paraded on a red carpet to my kitchen. The real fun starts with the stuffing. Over the years， I have devised a recipe that includes wholewheat breadcrumbs， onions， celery， soy-based 9）margarine （cold pressed， I 10）have it on good authority， by hermit monks deep in the caves of Tibet） and seasonings. No dairy.
But that doesn’t satisfy the needs of the gluten-intolerant. And so I make Batch 2 using non-gluten bread with the monk margarine.
I would like all the diners to enjoy the flavour of the turkey juices， but the vegans cannot eat stuffing that’s been cooked in the bird. The gluten-intolerant guests won’t eat regular stuffing. I ask myself： Does “gluten 11）ooze” exist？ Could it 12）permeate all that turkey meat， bone and skin and poison them？ Fine. Now we have three different 13）dressings.
Mashed potatoes sound simple. But again， no dairy. I provide a dish of plain， dry “14）riced potatoes” for the purists. If they are among the meat eaters， they can avail themselves of the delicious turkey gravy I make from scratch. If they are vegan or vegetarian they eat a soy-based “gravy” that， I say in all 15）candour， even the dogs wouldn’t touch.
Oh， I 16）stand corrected. One Thanksgiving， when my daughter made the “gravy”and brought it in her car， it spilled all over the back seat and her hound wolfed it down.
The favourite dessert is homemade 17）pecan pie with whipped cream. Before I make this， however， I ensure that my insurance is paid up and that all things breakable have been removed from the dining area. If my grown children go into a sugar rage， they could damage something.
My default pie is plain apple made with no sugar. For the gluten-intolerant， there’s an apple crisp with rice flour and cereal flakes.
If it sounds like I’m complaining about all the work， I am. But I’ll do it every year for as long as I can， since it means I will be surrounded by loving faces. I realize how very fortunate I am.
Now， if I can just arrange for that chauffeurdriven limo for the bird.
说到感恩节，没什么比配料齐备的火鸡更具代表性了。但是，我们家除外。
我的孩子小时候患有多种食物过敏症——三个孩子的过敏症各不相同。主要嫌疑过敏源有小麦、乳制品和糖分。次要过敏源有巧克力、食用色素和任意的化学添加剂。总之，全都是小孩子们想吃的东西。我敢向所有人发起挑战，在这些限制之下烹煮一顿节日大餐。
曾几何时，我比那只即将被宰杀的可怜火鸡更加恐惧喜庆宴会。当它让我的餐桌蓬荜生辉时，它已感受不到任何痛苦了。而我，还将继续煎熬数小时。不过熟能生巧，我已将这修炼成一道精致的技艺了。
孩子们逐渐长大，可以承受的食物更多了。有一阵子，我仿佛在这饮食规矩的隧道尽头看到一丝曙光。然而，回想起来，我感到困惑的是，他们倒挺喜欢那些难以择食的日子，还回归到严格控制的饮食习惯。在青少年时期，我的三个孩子都成了素食者。其中一个甚至跨越到了素食主义的“黑暗面”，成为一个纯素者。她至今仍坚持着，只是偶尔“出轨”，吃一大片奶酪或一个鸡蛋——那也只是因为她的医生劝谕她要摄入更多的食物。 我明白，素食者和纯素者也能有健康的饮食。这一点我没有异议。只是当我需要为一群人准备晚餐时，要迎合所有特殊体质并非易事。我常常怀疑他们是在扯我的链条，试着找出我的崩溃点。这也相差不远了。
我的孩子们喜欢和跟他们一样有择食困扰的朋友和伙伴玩在一起。其他家庭也许在努力克服他们节日餐桌上的各式种族差异，而我们则需对付不同的饮食规矩。黑人、白人、亚洲人、穆斯林算什么……我们有素食者、纯素者、麦麸不耐症和乳制品不耐症患者、食肉者，有避免摄入糖分的人，以及一个患有克罗恩氏病的家庭成员。
我的困境从火鸡开始。每一年，我花上一大笔钱，从本地健康食品商店订购一只有机农场放养的火鸡。火鸡享受过比我还多的水疗服务，称得上是一只快乐又放松的动物，听到这么一说，我就放心了，觉得如此奢侈也是合情合理的。一年里的其他时候，我是什么肉类打特价我就买什么肉的。
因为火鸡是新鲜宰杀而非速冻的，我必须在过节前一天到店提货。我突然想到，基于我为这只火鸡所支付的这笔费用，它应该由私人司机接送至我府邸，从红地毯招摇过市进入我家厨房。
真正的乐趣始于制作填料的过程。多年来，我创造出一个配方，包含全麦面包屑、洋葱、芹菜、豆制人造黄油（冷压制品，是我通过可靠的途径，从西藏深山的修行僧处获得的）和佐料。不加乳制品。
但是那满足不了麦麸不耐症者的胃口。于是我用非麦麸面包和修行僧的人造黄油制作了第二种填料。
我希望所有用餐的客人都能享受火鸡肉汁的鲜味，可是纯素者不吃填充在火鸡内腔的填料。麦麸不耐症的客人不吃普通的填料。我不禁自问：麦麸这物质会渗流而出吗？会不会渗透全部火鸡肉、骨头和皮肤，荼毒一切呢？好吧。现在我们有三种不同填料了。
土豆泥听起来非常简单。不过还是，不能添加乳制品。我为最纯粹的食客奉上一份清淡的、单调的饭粒土豆。如果他们也是肉食者，他们可以吃我自制的美味火鸡肉汁。如果他们是纯素者或者素食者，他们可以吃豆制“肉汁”——我敢坦白地说，连狗也不想碰这些“肉汁”。
噢，我错了。某一年感恩节，我的女儿做了这种“肉汁”并带进她的小车，肉汁洒满了后座，她家的猎犬狼吞虎咽地把它吃掉了。
饭桌上最受欢迎的甜品是自制的生奶油核桃派。尽管这样，在我做核桃派之前，我会确保我的保险已经缴清费用，并且移走用餐区域里所有的易碎品。如果我那几个成年的孩子因为摄入糖分而狂躁时，他们会摔东西。
最安全的首选甜品派是不加糖的素味苹果派。对麦麸不耐症者，可以做米粉、燕麦片制作而成的苹果酥。
如果这听起来像是我在抱怨所有的功夫，我确实是。然而，只要我还有能力，我每一年都会竭尽全力去做，因为它意味着我将会被一群挚爱的脸庞围绕。我发现，我是多么地幸运。
现在，请容我为火鸡安排专车接送的司机和豪车。
When my kids were small， they had multiple food 1）allergies—all three of them different. The main suspects were wheat， dairy and sugar. Lesser offenders were chocolate， food dyes and random chemical additives. In short， anything a child would want to eat. I challenge anyone to prepare a festive meal with those 2）parameters.
There was a time when I dreaded a celebratory dinner more than the poor， soonto-be-butchered turkey did. He， by the time he graced my table， would be feeling no pain. I， on the other hand， would suffer for hours. But with practice， I got it down to a fine art.
As the children grew they were able to tolerate more foods. For a while I could see a light at the end of the dietary tunnel. However， in a bit of 3）nostalgia I find puzzling， they viewed those difficult years with fondness and have revisited the time of restricted diets. All three became vegetarians as teenagers. One even crossed to the “dark side” of vegetarianism， becoming a vegan. She maintains it still， with the occasional 4）lapse for a 5）hunk of cheese or an egg—and that’s only because her doctor told her she needed more food in her food.
I realize that vegetarians and vegans can have healthy diets. I have no quarrel with that. It’s just that when I am charged with serving dinner to a crowd， accommodating all the 6）idiosyncrasies is difficult. I often suspect they are yanking my chain and trying to find my breaking point. It’s not far off.
My kids have attached themselves to friends and partners with equally difficult diets. While other families may strive for ethnic diversity at their holiday tables， we strive for dietary diversity. Never mind black， white， Asian， Muslim…we have vegetarians， vegans， gluten- and dairy-intolerant guests， meat eaters， someone avoiding sugar， and a family member with 7）Crohn’s disease.
My dilemma starts with the turkey. Each year， I splash out and order an organic， 8）freerange turkey from the local health food store. After being assured that the bird has spent more time at the spa than I have and is therefore a happy， relaxed creature， I reason that such an extravagance can be justified. The rest of the year I buy whatever meat is on sale.
Since the turkey is fresh， not frozen， it must be picked up the day before the holiday. It occurs to me that for the price I’m paying for this bird， it should be chauffeur-driven to my doorstep and paraded on a red carpet to my kitchen. The real fun starts with the stuffing. Over the years， I have devised a recipe that includes wholewheat breadcrumbs， onions， celery， soy-based 9）margarine （cold pressed， I 10）have it on good authority， by hermit monks deep in the caves of Tibet） and seasonings. No dairy.
But that doesn’t satisfy the needs of the gluten-intolerant. And so I make Batch 2 using non-gluten bread with the monk margarine.
I would like all the diners to enjoy the flavour of the turkey juices， but the vegans cannot eat stuffing that’s been cooked in the bird. The gluten-intolerant guests won’t eat regular stuffing. I ask myself： Does “gluten 11）ooze” exist？ Could it 12）permeate all that turkey meat， bone and skin and poison them？ Fine. Now we have three different 13）dressings.
Mashed potatoes sound simple. But again， no dairy. I provide a dish of plain， dry “14）riced potatoes” for the purists. If they are among the meat eaters， they can avail themselves of the delicious turkey gravy I make from scratch. If they are vegan or vegetarian they eat a soy-based “gravy” that， I say in all 15）candour， even the dogs wouldn’t touch.
Oh， I 16）stand corrected. One Thanksgiving， when my daughter made the “gravy”and brought it in her car， it spilled all over the back seat and her hound wolfed it down.
The favourite dessert is homemade 17）pecan pie with whipped cream. Before I make this， however， I ensure that my insurance is paid up and that all things breakable have been removed from the dining area. If my grown children go into a sugar rage， they could damage something.
My default pie is plain apple made with no sugar. For the gluten-intolerant， there’s an apple crisp with rice flour and cereal flakes.
If it sounds like I’m complaining about all the work， I am. But I’ll do it every year for as long as I can， since it means I will be surrounded by loving faces. I realize how very fortunate I am.
Now， if I can just arrange for that chauffeurdriven limo for the bird.
说到感恩节，没什么比配料齐备的火鸡更具代表性了。但是，我们家除外。
我的孩子小时候患有多种食物过敏症——三个孩子的过敏症各不相同。主要嫌疑过敏源有小麦、乳制品和糖分。次要过敏源有巧克力、食用色素和任意的化学添加剂。总之，全都是小孩子们想吃的东西。我敢向所有人发起挑战，在这些限制之下烹煮一顿节日大餐。
曾几何时，我比那只即将被宰杀的可怜火鸡更加恐惧喜庆宴会。当它让我的餐桌蓬荜生辉时，它已感受不到任何痛苦了。而我，还将继续煎熬数小时。不过熟能生巧，我已将这修炼成一道精致的技艺了。
孩子们逐渐长大，可以承受的食物更多了。有一阵子，我仿佛在这饮食规矩的隧道尽头看到一丝曙光。然而，回想起来，我感到困惑的是，他们倒挺喜欢那些难以择食的日子，还回归到严格控制的饮食习惯。在青少年时期，我的三个孩子都成了素食者。其中一个甚至跨越到了素食主义的“黑暗面”，成为一个纯素者。她至今仍坚持着，只是偶尔“出轨”，吃一大片奶酪或一个鸡蛋——那也只是因为她的医生劝谕她要摄入更多的食物。 我明白，素食者和纯素者也能有健康的饮食。这一点我没有异议。只是当我需要为一群人准备晚餐时，要迎合所有特殊体质并非易事。我常常怀疑他们是在扯我的链条，试着找出我的崩溃点。这也相差不远了。
我的孩子们喜欢和跟他们一样有择食困扰的朋友和伙伴玩在一起。其他家庭也许在努力克服他们节日餐桌上的各式种族差异，而我们则需对付不同的饮食规矩。黑人、白人、亚洲人、穆斯林算什么……我们有素食者、纯素者、麦麸不耐症和乳制品不耐症患者、食肉者，有避免摄入糖分的人，以及一个患有克罗恩氏病的家庭成员。
我的困境从火鸡开始。每一年，我花上一大笔钱，从本地健康食品商店订购一只有机农场放养的火鸡。火鸡享受过比我还多的水疗服务，称得上是一只快乐又放松的动物，听到这么一说，我就放心了，觉得如此奢侈也是合情合理的。一年里的其他时候，我是什么肉类打特价我就买什么肉的。
因为火鸡是新鲜宰杀而非速冻的，我必须在过节前一天到店提货。我突然想到，基于我为这只火鸡所支付的这笔费用，它应该由私人司机接送至我府邸，从红地毯招摇过市进入我家厨房。
真正的乐趣始于制作填料的过程。多年来，我创造出一个配方，包含全麦面包屑、洋葱、芹菜、豆制人造黄油（冷压制品，是我通过可靠的途径，从西藏深山的修行僧处获得的）和佐料。不加乳制品。
但是那满足不了麦麸不耐症者的胃口。于是我用非麦麸面包和修行僧的人造黄油制作了第二种填料。
我希望所有用餐的客人都能享受火鸡肉汁的鲜味，可是纯素者不吃填充在火鸡内腔的填料。麦麸不耐症的客人不吃普通的填料。我不禁自问：麦麸这物质会渗流而出吗？会不会渗透全部火鸡肉、骨头和皮肤，荼毒一切呢？好吧。现在我们有三种不同填料了。
土豆泥听起来非常简单。不过还是，不能添加乳制品。我为最纯粹的食客奉上一份清淡的、单调的饭粒土豆。如果他们也是肉食者，他们可以吃我自制的美味火鸡肉汁。如果他们是纯素者或者素食者，他们可以吃豆制“肉汁”——我敢坦白地说，连狗也不想碰这些“肉汁”。
噢，我错了。某一年感恩节，我的女儿做了这种“肉汁”并带进她的小车，肉汁洒满了后座，她家的猎犬狼吞虎咽地把它吃掉了。
饭桌上最受欢迎的甜品是自制的生奶油核桃派。尽管这样，在我做核桃派之前，我会确保我的保险已经缴清费用，并且移走用餐区域里所有的易碎品。如果我那几个成年的孩子因为摄入糖分而狂躁时，他们会摔东西。
最安全的首选甜品派是不加糖的素味苹果派。对麦麸不耐症者，可以做米粉、燕麦片制作而成的苹果酥。
如果这听起来像是我在抱怨所有的功夫，我确实是。然而，只要我还有能力，我每一年都会竭尽全力去做，因为它意味着我将会被一群挚爱的脸庞围绕。我发现，我是多么地幸运。
现在，请容我为火鸡安排专车接送的司机和豪车。