2008 Woodie Awards
The microwave that saved Christmas
Jen Ryan
Issue date: 12/7/04 Section: Feature of the Week: Holiday Horrors
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My mother laughed when she opened the large box covered with an unending series of Kris Kringle's face.
"What is it?" I asked, unable to see the front of the box.
"It's the annual 'house' present," my mom said. "A microwave."
The annual house present was always some household appliance my grandparents thought we needed. In the past, we'd received everything from an electric screwdriver to a set of serving bowls to this microwave.
Every year, my mom and dad laughed at the presents, partially because they were amusing (a present for a house?) and partially because we technically never needed these gadgets. My family was proud of doing things the old-fashioned way. Who needs the Internet when you have a phone and postal service that works just as well? Who needs a microwave when your stove isn't broken?
My mom set aside her gift and went to check on the turkey.
Unlike most American families, my family didn't have ham or beef for Christmas dinner. My family had what can only be compared to a second Thanksgiving. We ate turkey, stuffing, cranberry bread, and enough vegetables to create what my mom calls the "VG"-veggie glow, a condition brought on by eating lots of corn, potatoes, squash, turnips, and green beans at a holiday meal. The Christmas day meal was as much a part of my family's holiday tradition as watching It's a Wonderful Life or Rudolph might be for other families.
I checked my watch. Two o'clock. Time to eat.
My mom came back to the family room five minutes later.
"The turkey's not ready yet," she said. "I'm just gonna give it another hour or so then it should be all set."
Another hour? I was starving. The smell of turkey emanated from the upstairs kitchen, teasing everyone in the family room with the thought of tender white meat and spicy brown gravy. My mom had put the turkey in at 10:00 am. The turkey takes three to four hours to cook, so that means at maximum cooking time, two o'clock is the latest time the turkey could be cooked. Maybe my mom just bought a bigger turkey than usual.
"What is it?" I asked, unable to see the front of the box.
"It's the annual 'house' present," my mom said. "A microwave."
The annual house present was always some household appliance my grandparents thought we needed. In the past, we'd received everything from an electric screwdriver to a set of serving bowls to this microwave.
Every year, my mom and dad laughed at the presents, partially because they were amusing (a present for a house?) and partially because we technically never needed these gadgets. My family was proud of doing things the old-fashioned way. Who needs the Internet when you have a phone and postal service that works just as well? Who needs a microwave when your stove isn't broken?
My mom set aside her gift and went to check on the turkey.
Unlike most American families, my family didn't have ham or beef for Christmas dinner. My family had what can only be compared to a second Thanksgiving. We ate turkey, stuffing, cranberry bread, and enough vegetables to create what my mom calls the "VG"-veggie glow, a condition brought on by eating lots of corn, potatoes, squash, turnips, and green beans at a holiday meal. The Christmas day meal was as much a part of my family's holiday tradition as watching It's a Wonderful Life or Rudolph might be for other families.
I checked my watch. Two o'clock. Time to eat.
My mom came back to the family room five minutes later.
"The turkey's not ready yet," she said. "I'm just gonna give it another hour or so then it should be all set."
Another hour? I was starving. The smell of turkey emanated from the upstairs kitchen, teasing everyone in the family room with the thought of tender white meat and spicy brown gravy. My mom had put the turkey in at 10:00 am. The turkey takes three to four hours to cook, so that means at maximum cooking time, two o'clock is the latest time the turkey could be cooked. Maybe my mom just bought a bigger turkey than usual.