Think back to Thursday. If you are like many Americans, you spent the day watching football surrounded by family and ate what I hope was your most satisfying feast in recent memory. You may have stepped on the scale post-meal and noticed a considerable difference in its reading as opposed to the previous weigh-in. You packed on some pounds via turkey, bread rolls, various casseroles, and whatever odd dish has become a Thanksgiving family tradition. At my house, an odd conglomeration of baked pineapple, cheese, and marshmallows takes that prize. My grandma is to thank for that, and after getting over the amazement that those three things were cooked in the same pan, piling multiple helpings of this gooey concoction is a must.
The time of day during which households across the nation devour a remarkable amount of comfort food generally falls in the afternoon-evening range. I have attended many Thanksgiving lunches throughout the years at my great aunt’s house and gone on to stuff my face during dinner, but what we eat for breakfast on the fourth Thursday of November is largely forgotten.
Growing up, we are told on countless occasions that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. This word of advice gets thrown out the window during holidays that require family gatherings. People go out to brunch on Easter, and eat delectable meals on Thanksgiving and Christmas afternoons and nights. These feasts require much more planning and preparation time than normal, so other meals fall by the wayside. However, Easter brunch at a local eatery leads to a home-cooked meal at night and nobody ever goes hungry on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day if grandma has anything to say about it. Breakfast on Thanksgiving is different.
Whether we eat a measly bowl of cereal to tide us over until the grand feast, sample dishes as they are being prepared, or skip breakfast entirely to leave room for the pounds of potatoes we shove down our gullets, breakfast on Thanksgiving is largely underwhelming. The contrast between the kitchen’s version of a get-me-over 3-0 fastball to the greatest meal we will likely consume during the year is remarkable. Thanksgiving breakfast has the potential to be one of the greatest sleeper meals of the year, but never gets the love that an Easter Brunch or a Christmas breakfast regularly garner. Do you remember what you had for breakfast last Thursday? My bets are that it sure was not worth remembering.
Why is this?