There is no implication that his mother was not a good cook. She was a wonderful woman, I loved her probably as much as he did, but she was an Irish woman from Philadelphia who knew how to cook meat and potatoes. Thanksgiving dinner at her house involved the slaughter of a number of animals from someone's farm. It would include: turkey, ham, roast beef, cocktail shrimp, spareribs, mashed white potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing with sausage, rolls (always burned), gravy (homemade, of course), and a seasonal Jello mold. Note the absence of a single green vegetable. Nothing. Nada. The Jello might have been green but I recall it was usually red and it might have included canned fruit cocktail and maraschino cherries. Dessert included pumpkin pie, apple pie, banana cream pie, cheesecake, and various flavors of ice cream. Cool-Whip for all.
Okay—it’s less than a week before Thanksgiving and now I’ve done what I needed to do. I have completely lost my appetite for all things Thanksgiving. But I might go look in the refrigerator to see if there are any cold meatballs.