A Thanksgiving Guide for First Time Hosts

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My wife and I will be hosting Thanksgiving festivities at our place for the sixth consecutive year. In that time, we’ve figured out what works, what doesn’t work, and what goes so horribly wrong that you are spending extra money on Christmas presents to “apologize” for November’s offense. First time hosts mistakenly think that getting the cooking right is the most important part of this most familial of holidays. It is not. So, as a public service announcement, I offer this guide for the newbie hosts out there. Good luck, and Happy Thanksgiving.

Tuesday afternoon/evening: Buy the turkey. It takes a long time for a turkey to thaw. Longer than you think. Hey, but maybe you are getting a “fresh” turkey Wednesday. Yeah, you at 1,000,000 other people within walking distance of your grocery store/farm/tofurkey provider. Get the bird on Tuesday at the latest.

Tuesday Night: Have sex with your spouse. Your family is getting in on Wednesday night and nobody is getting laid with in-laws in the other room. Unless you miss the kind of quiet and terrified sex you used to not do very much of in high school, Wednesday night is a non-starter. Sitting on your couch Thursday night while a small petting zoo rests in your stomach doesn’t make anybody feel sexy either. And it’s not going to get better over the weekend. Even after your family leaves, you’ll be fighting with your spouse over who said what to whose mother well into December. And by then you’ll be fighting over how much money you are spending on shopping for the holidays.

Trust me, the sex the Tuesday before Thanksgiving is the best sex married people are getting until New Year’s. Enjoy it.

With your marital bond cemented through love-making, it’s time to put it to use. Onto Wednesday!

Wednesday Day: Leave work as early as possible. People who are going away for the holidays will try to dump work on you, because you’re “around.” You need to make yourself “not around” as soon as you can. You won’t get in trouble. Nobody actually remembers who did what the day before Thanksgiving.

Wednesday Afternoon: Buy more bath towels. Young couples never have enough bath towels. You always end up giving away all your good towels to quests, leaving you to dry yourself with a ShamWow. Just stop by Bed, Bath and Beyond on your way home from work Wednesday. You can thank me later.

Wednesday Night: Nobody cares about you and your new life. With all these people coming to your place, the temptation is to think that everybody is coming to visit you, at your house, on your terms. If wishes were horses.

Instead, whatever family dynamic you have — and wherever you fall within that hierarchy — will be re-imposed immediately. Your mom will immediately start treating you like you are seven, your older brother will steal your television remote. Your dad will notice the shelves you built from scratch aren’t quite level. If you thought hosting Thanksgiving was going to be your big coming out party as an adult, think again. Families thrive on familiarity. On Wednesday night, everybody just wants things “to be like they always are.” If your family job is to fetch beers, well, what are you waiting for? Chop-chop.

Food wise, your seasoned turkey should be ready for the brine. The spouse who is not in charge of Wednesday turkey preparation is in charge of making sure the turkey preparer is kept plied with alcohol. That spouse is also in charge of dicing vegetables. Cutting veggies is a way for the entire family to be involved in the prep while the kids play Xbox. And your Thursday is made infinitely easier if all your vegetables are sliced and sitting in Ziplock baggies when you wake up.

Thursday Morning: The Parade! Who doesn’t love the Thanksgiving Day parade? I wish all three hour infomercials for department stores were this much fun.

As for Thanksgiving breakfast, it should be simple and quick. Microwave something, maybe scramble something, then put it on a paper plate. If people don’t like it, there’s a McDonald’s down the street. Seriously, big Thursday morning breakfasts are when kitchen gremlins are hatched.

Thursday Late Morning: The calm before the storm. My family watches the dog show, which comes on right after the parade.

This time, before the football games, is best spent on planning. Do you know the order of when dishes need to be in the stove so that everything gets ready when the turkey is ready? Remember — at least in NYC — most kitchens cannot hold a turkey and much of anything else. Oven bottle-neck = eating cold food at midnight.

Early Football Game: Keep the beer away from the television. For the first time the family alcoholic makes an appearance. It is imperative that you keep this person relatively sober through the first football game. Otherwise he’ll be telling dirty stories about your wife during dinner.

I like to create clever tasks that require motor functions to keep the alcoholic occupied (note: yes I double as the family alcoholic, sue me.) The family alcoholic should be in charge of any last minute runs to the store. Fresh air and open container laws work to your advantage here. The family alcoholic should also be in charge of getting things from high places, answering the door, and putting out whatever it is you are serving for a light lunch (I suggest chips, crackers and many cheeses). Whatever happens, do not let this person park on the couch for three hours watching a game. He won’t even know how drunk he’s getting if you let him do that.

Early Game-Halftime: Deal with the busybody. If it hasn’t happened already, the people who usually host Thanksgiving are antsy by now and desperate to make themselves useful. These people are used to being busy, but now they have to sit around and actually talk to all these relations.

Here’s where I like to run a playaction in-law play. I go to these people and ask, nay beg them, to prepare one particular dish. I say that I was going to do it myself, but actually they do it much better. Yada, yada, “I’ve got all the ingredients, can you me help out in a pinch?”

Never fails. Busybody disaster averted. And I get to watch both halves of the game, just like I always intended.

Late Game: Start washing dishes if you are not cooking. As you finish making various side items, there is no harm in starting to wash some of the pots and pans. It’ll make clean up a lot quicker. More importantly, if you are taking a side role and are not the primary cook, your busy and stressed spouse will appreciate this form of help. And really, you should be sick of dealing with your family by now anyway.

End Game: Crunch time. Most families eat after the game. Here’s the thing to remember, make sure somebody with a modicum of football understanding is keeping an eye on the score. You don’t want a shrill call to dinner with two minutes to go in a close game. On the other hand, in a blowout — and this year’s late game pits the Raiders against the Cowboys, serious blowout potential — there’s no harm in gathering people around the table a little early.

Dinner Time: Congratulations. You’ve been cooking and hosting all day, sit back and accept the adulation of others.

And keep your mouth shut. If you limit your vocabulary to “thank you” and “pass the gravy” the family will snipe at each other and leave you alone out of respect for all your hard work.

After Dinner: Structured activity time! So many perfectly good Thanksgiving events are ruined by some nonsense drama that starts after the meal. As the host, your job isn’t done when everybody is unbuckling their belts. Most people count on the tryptophan effect. But you know who doesn’t get sleepy? The family pyro who lives for the opportunity to “go there.”

In my family, we play bid whist after dinner (note for white people: bid whist is like bridge only much more fun). But any structured activity will do, anything to keep people’s minds off of each other’s faults. Watch a (pre-determined) movie, play Rock Band, read a freaking story. Just have something, structured, for people to do.

GTFO My House: When it is time for people to go, don’t be shy about telling them. My favorite line is “It’s time for everybody to go.” But there are more subtle ways (I’ve been told). Always leave them wanting more.

Of course, you should have spare bedding at the ready for any family members that are too drunk to drive. It’s your family, you know who you have to watch out for. Having special “Uncle Ben can puke all over these sheets” bedding is a good thing and it could save a life.

If you follow these instructions, you should be able to get through an entire Thanksgiving without inadvertently causing a major family crisis. I know it sounds like a lot of work, but I’d rather do hard time in my own kitchen than be in a major American airport right now.