On Thanksgiving, we eat.
During the entire Christmas season, we eat.
There's also Valentine's Day, Halloween, Easter, and Fourth of July. But let us not forget the splurge-o-rama, stuff-your-face-extravaganza of
which happens to be today if you're living outside the United States and don't follow football.
Our American food-centric traditions are quite a contrast to Chinese holidays. Basically, there's Chinese New Year where you go to your family's house and eat a lot of food. But that's about it. Even then, traditional Chinese New Year food is pretty healthy: jiaozi -- a boiled dumpling -- filled with meats and vegetables. I mean, okay, the stores are burgeoning with moon cakes around lantern festival, but generally mooncakes are pretty healthy too. Fillings usually include egg yolks and red bean paste and other lovely things.
I'm working pretty hard in the kitchen getting ready for the Superbowl Mexican food fiesta we're attending at my in-law's house this afternoon. I'm in charge of the pico de gallo and the dessert. I'm waiting for the brownies and pudding to cool a little more before I build my infamous chocolate-strawberry trifle. The pico de gallo turned into a glorified guacamole because my avacados were too ripe. But I'm not complaining. If it's got avacado in it, I'm eating it.
We'll get to my in-law's house. The pre-game show will be on. There will be a zillion children running around screaming and dumping out toys; my children will joyously jump into the fray. We'll sit in front of the tube, laughing and cheering, stuff ourselves silly with lots of greasy, salty, sugary wonderfulness, share dish duty, and head home bloated and happy ... like we do every American holiday.
You've gotta love it ... but no wonder I'm not fitting into my jeans anymore.