Thanksgiving is a time rich with tradition. Families welcome loved ones to expertly choreographed meals, the good plates are carefully unpacked, linens are ironed, and the meat thermometer mysteriously disappears again. Then came 2020, who declared with a mask-muffled puff of wet air, “Pffft. Yeah, right.”
I’m typically the cook and host for most holiday celebrations, and Thanksgiving is no exception. So, it isn’t unusual – even in 2020 – for me to call my butcher to pre-order a fresh turkey in the 20-pound range. Not willing to be caught birdless, I made the call and secured a 15-pound turkey, what I thought to be a relatively sensible selection. And then the next wave of the epidemic hit, which is why I find myself with a beast of a bird, one other adult, two picky teens, and a two-year-old who would just as soon have a bowl of Panera mac and cheese than eat meat.
But as one with control issues (or so I’m told) and a love of vintage serving ware, I’m doing the damn thing anyway; the full-tilt boogie. Midnight turkey sandwiches? No problem. Day-after turkey and rice soup to last the rest of the year? Got it. There is no more debate whether fresh or canned cranberry sauce is best – I do what I want this year.
I think most families have collectibles for Thanksgiving, recipes that have been passed down, or at least memories from childhood, like your grandma’s hand towels that were strictly off-limits and the pilgrim candles that were never lit. Most of my holiday favorites are sentimental items. There are the linen napkins I put out every year that, before she passed, my mom would iron for me the night before the big feast. My sister has her stuffing recipe framed, her looping cursive blotted with buttered fingerprints, which always conjures the ghost of her bent over a hot stove early in the morning.
There’s my mother-in-law’s vintage relish dish crafted from the milk glass I favor and the thick green glass bowls with scalloped edges she used exclusively for olives. There are Grandma Virginia’s pie server and my mom’s chocolate pudding pie, which should be eaten in the morning and washed down with a strong cup of coffee.
While my collection is built from the love I have for these women who never bothered with measurements and never met a kitchen fumble they couldn’t recover from, there are plenty of collectibles that are worth searching out for their rareness, value, or popularity:
Turkey platters by English maker Johnson Brothers, notably the “Barnyard King” and “His Majesty” patterns. Items from the 70s are also worth the hunt. Think honeycomb decorations by the Beistle brand and amber-colored glass candleholders from a variety of makers. And as a lover of all things glass, I continue to keep my eyes open for pedestal cake stands from Adams & Co., whose dessert stands can be worth up to $300. Their style is also known as early American Pattern Glass (EAPG) and collectors should look for seams in the piece to confirm the liquid glass was pressed into a glass mold.
Happy Thanksgiving and happy hunting!
