Before I begin, friends, I want to share with you one of the most fun and out-of-the-blue things that has happened to me since appearing on House Hunters International. I was asked to appear on Radio Deejay, the number one radio station in all of Italy, and explain Thanksgiving to Italian people. So my long day started at dawn, and here is the result:

http://www.deejay.it/audio/thanksgiving/360388/

As is the case with most women from the South, planning my Thanksgiving menu gives me a reason to live through October and November. This has been the case only for the last few years, as I’ve been forced to spend Thanksgiving away from my family and have become the head of my own spinster household.

My first Thanksgiving in Rome was in 2001. I was at work that day, teaching English in a language school, and my friend Jennifer called me to talk about her imminent move to Rome and into an apartment with me. “What are you up to?” I asked her. “Making a turkey,” she replied. “Why?” “Because it’s Thanksgiving.” “IT IS?” I had no idea, and I was very sad. So my roommate Olufemi and I went to the Hard Rock Cafe’ that night for burgers.

Last year I found myself back in Rome, and went up to Turin to prepare Thanksgiving dinner with an American girl I’d never met, for an Italian guy who didn’t deserve it, and a bunch of their friends (who were quite nice). I blogged about it, and tried to put a positive spin on everything, but it was kind of a terrible day and weekend. I remember thinking I should have stayed in Rome and cooked a dinner for my good American friends there.

The last year has flown by and has been a great emotional improvement over the last. And about two months ago I started thinking about my second-favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, and what I could scrape together in Rome to make it special for my friends.

I knew I had to get a turkey. I also knew I would have to order it from a butcher, about a week in advance. I’ve never been to a butcher in Rome. Or maybe…in my life. So I googled, called, and sure enough the very kind butcher in my neighborhood said I could order a big bird from them. But he said it should not be discussed over the phone. If I were close, could I come in for a chat? Um, sure. When I got there, he explained, “Signora, unfortunately little turkeys aren’t usually available until late December.” “Maybe I didn’t explain clearly, I need a turkey for 10 people. Like a 15-pounder. I mean, a 7-kilogram…er.” “I see. Well. You need to bring us your oven measurements.”

The next day I went back to the butcher with my oven measurements. The butcher looked alarmed. I made a joke about how I’m lucky to have an oven at all in my 500 square foot apartment. He answered, “You may have a small place but you’ve got the prettiest smile around.” Um, where’s your tip jar? Then, he said that the next day he would have a turkey in for another client, and I should come by again and eyeball it to see if it would fit in my oven. I did, the next day, and concluded that the example turkey was just about right. I gave him my name and the turkey was scratched off the list.

“Before.”

Another thing I had to order a week in advance? A dad-gum meat thermometer, which do not seem to exist in Rome. I looked in about 6 stores before finally just ordering one from Amazon.it. It arrived in time and no one died of salmonella.

The rest of the American ingredients – canned sweet potatoes, cream of mushroom soup, pecans, cranberries, marshmallows, canned pumpkin, evaporated milk – were all purchased for about a million dollars at Castroni, the international foods store I’ve been relying on for ages. As for the regular groceries, I decided to try something I’ve been meaning to for months – grocery delivery.

Grocery delivery, y’all. Maybe those of you in New York are used to this, but I’m used to giant supermarkets with parking lots stretched out to the horizon, where I can park my Chevy, fill it up, and then take it back home to my attached garage. My Italian friend said I should try grocery delivery from the grocery store chain Coop, and nervously I placed my order online.

I NEED TO REVISE MY BELIEF THAT GROCERY-GETTING WAS THE MOST INCONVENIENT THING ABOUT ITALY! I need to come up with something else. THE COOP ONLINE GROCERY ORDER AND DELIVERY IS A GODSEND!!! In a country where many services aren’t at all available online, and you have to go to the butcher in person to order a bird, the ability to order groceries and have them delivered in this town might change my life.

Bread, veggies, fruit, flour, sugar, coffee, mushrooms, dried cherries, butter…. The only problem was that a few of the veggies didn’t show up (they must have been out at the store), and the delivery was actually about 30 minutes earlier than scheduled. I was returning home from errands thinking I had time to spare when I saw him waiting there outside, ringing my buzzer. I’m not sure what he would have done if I hadn’t walked up then.

The next day was cooking day. The menu:

• 15-pound turkey
• Stuffing
• Green bean casserole
• Sweet potato casserole
• Green salad with figs, made by Gordon
• Jack Daniel’s Apples
• Glazed carrots
• Bread
• Pumpkin Pie
• Carrot Cake cupcakes

So who’s the bigger turkey?

Making Thanksgiving dinner for 9 people with this much counter space, a tiny Ikea oven, three working burners, no microwave, and a hotel-sized fridge. Sorry to break it to y’all, but only a Tennessee girl could pull that off.

Yes, it was exhausting, and yes, it took all day from about 9:30 AM to 8:30 PM when we ate. The day started with yet another trip to the butcher to pick up the bird, pay for it, and carry it through the streets of Rome, thanks to Gordon’s muscles, back to my apartment.

I have no microwave, so there was no way to keep earlier dishes warm except to wrap them in coats and pretend it was the 1800s. My 8 friends came, everyone brought wine, we had a great time, and I felt all warm and fuzzy. We all went around and announced what we were thankful for, and as usual I said, “I am thankful that my parents are still married, my grandmother is still with us, and we are all healthy.” I added, “I am very thankful for all of you new friends, and I can’t wait to see where we all are in 10 years. I am also very thankful for my old friend, Gordon, who came all the way to Rome to visit me.” Then I turned to the man in my life, who has almost made me forget the last Thanksgiving, and said I was thankful for him. And god bless him, he loved the food!! He said that since being with me he has “learned” that America actually has its own cuisine and he is shocked to discover he really likes it. “You mix sweet and salty. Strange,” says the man from the country where all foods are served on separate plates.

She (he?) turned out moist on the inside and crispy on the outside. Thankful for that!

Ready.

Green bean and sweet potato casserole, without which I cannot have Thanksgiving.

My dear friend Gordon, visiting this weekend from New York, in charge of the carving. Monique is back there in charge of her glass of wine.

Homemade pumpkin pie and carrot cake cupcakes for dessert (and happily, a few leftovers for the next day).

Success. Thanksgiving 2013 was a success. My family and my country are a million miles away, but for a few hours it felt like home.

Dinner is served. (Thanks for the pic, Monique!)

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