Oh my goodness, this is usually the week I add olives to my grocery cart to start stocking up for Thanksgiving! I also needed to add aluminum foil for work because I reheat some of my meals in the toaster oven.
But I have been thrown all out of sorts this past week.
You see, I have a system. As I think of things I need, I pop open my grocery store app and add them to my cart. One less thing taking up space in my brain, and when I am ready to shop, I can look at what I need and have it brought right out to the Jeep.
Now, don’t get me wrong. There are days when I love walking the grocery store aisles, getting sucked into creative marketing and all the seasonal shenanigans. Those holiday displays know exactly how to get my attention! But there is something wonderful about being able to order what I need and have someone else do the shopping and bring it out to the Jeep for me.
Except the website has been down.
😮
And suddenly, my little system is not working quite as it should!
Which got me thinking about planning, grocery lists, and all the ways we try to make life work, especially when we are preparing for a holiday.
I was a young mom. Three baby boys by the time I was 25, and we were raising them right here in the real world.
Birthday parties happened at home. Kid friends, grandparents, family friends, party games, snacks, and a homemade cake. Nothing particularly fancy, but everyone was there, and that was what mattered.
I will admit, I did take a cake decorating class back then. The real motivation? I had found a train-shaped cake pan at a yard sale, and I wanted to turn it into Thomas the Train for Tyler’s fifth birthday. Sometimes a little inspiration comes from a very practical place!
I didn’t have much grocery money in those days, but I learned to plan ahead. I learned that spreading things out, watching for sales, and thinking a little further down the road could make a big difference.
And honestly, I still do it.
Thanksgiving is just six weeks away, and I am already thinking about the menu. I have always kept a journal book where I write down thoughts, doodle, work through ideas, and keep my to-do lists. Shopping lists for events and classes often end up there, too. It is where a lot of my thinking happens.
For Thanksgiving, I start with a list of the dishes we plan to serve. I delegate dishes to the kids, and we tend to stick with the same assignments every year. Once I have a tentative menu, I make my shopping list and check things off as I go.
The olives? Usually one of the first things to land in my cart. Cranberry sauce has already made it into the cart on my last grocery trip.
Next, I will be watching for deals on crispy fried onions, cream of chicken soup, and frozen green beans. I’ll grab extra onions for everyday cooking and so I am ready when it is time to prepare the stuffing. I almost brought home a frozen turkey on my last trip, too, but I think I need to make some room in the freezer first!
Of course, some things have to wait. Celery, stuffing bread, and a few other ingredients have a shorter timeline, so those usually get picked up during Thanksgiving week. But chipping away at the list now means I won’t be trying to buy everything in one grocery trip.
And that matters.
Trying to do it all at once can be a real budget buster. I know grocery shopping is a place where many of us are having to make hard choices. I have been there. I know what it is like to think carefully about every dollar and figure out how to make a special day happen without stretching the budget beyond what it can handle.
We are all doing the best we can with what we have.
One thing I love about baking is that a little planning can go a long way. Sourdough can be part of that plan, too. Bread and rolls made a couple of days ahead can mean fresh, homemade goodness on the holiday table without having to do absolutely everything on the day itself.
Yes, it takes a little planning. But if you have the skills, show them off!
And baking isn’t just about what you put on your own table. It can be about what you give away, too.
For years, I gave baked goods as gifts. And I want to be honest about something: sometimes I did that because I simply didn’t have the money to buy something more tangible. I still wanted to give a gift, to show someone I cared about, and to have something to offer when a holiday or special occasion came around.
So I baked.
At the time, I didn’t necessarily think of it as anything particularly special. I was doing what I could with what I had. A batch of cookies, a loaf of bread, or a homemade treat was something I could make, wrap up, and give with love.
Over time, I discovered that those treats meant more to people than I realized. Some recipients have their favorites…
💚Peanut Brittle
❤️Peanut Butter Kiss Cookies
💚Auntie Cookies
❤️Party Mix
OH MY!
People remember these things. They look forward to them. Sometimes a recipe becomes part of someone’s holiday simply because another person took the time to make it year after year.
I may have started giving baked goods because they were what I could afford, but I learned that their value wasn’t measured by what I had spent. It was in the time, the thought, and the care that went into making them.
That is a pretty wonderful thing.
The ingredients for baking are things I keep in my pantry. Baking soda, baking powder, vanilla, sugar, salt, and flour are regular staples around here. And yes, I generally have chocolate chips, butter, and eggs on hand, too!
Having those things available makes it easier to pull something together when the occasion calls for it. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Sometimes it is simply a homemade treat that says, I thought of you.
I have some pretty specific food memories from growing up, too. My nana’s party mix is one of them. There are certain things that just belong to a holiday in your mind, and that party mix is one of those things for me.
It’s funny how a particular food can bring someone right back into a room, isn’t it? You can remember the person who made it, the feeling of being together, and the familiar sights and smells that told you it was a special time of year.
Those are the kinds of memories I think are worth holding on to. Not because every tradition needs to be followed exactly as it always was, but because there is something special about remembering the people who helped make our holidays what they were.
One of the reasons I wanted to grow Heirloom Kitchen Maine into something more was that I started thinking about the connections we have to the past and the traditions we carry forward. Some of those connections seem to be getting lost, or perhaps it is more accurate to say they are not always being honored the way they once were.
Our loved ones who came before us are not literally in the food we eat. But their memories are there.
My nana’s party mix, for example, is more than a snack in my memory. It is a connection to her and to the holidays we shared. Someone else might remember a grandmother’s pie, an aunt’s cookies, or the dish that appeared at every family gathering without fail.
We remember the people who made these things, and sometimes making them ourselves is one way we keep those people close.
We remember the kitchens we gathered in, the hands that taught us, and the familiar dishes that showed up every single year. We remember the people who made a particular pie, the grandmother who always had something ready for company, and the aunt who made the treat nobody else could quite replicate.
Their memories belong at the table, too. They deserve an invitation when we gather.
Because the reason we try to make holidays special isn’t simply to feed people. It is to BE with the people we love. To create memories while we can. To pass along the stories, the recipes, the little rituals, and the traditions that help us remember where we came from.
And to give the next generation something they might someday want to recreate in their own homes.
That is what I hope we make room for at Heirloom Kitchen Maine. Not just recipes or a perfectly risen loaf of bread, but the learning, the gathering, the sharing, and the remembering. The confidence to try something new and the joy of keeping something old alive.
Because here is the hard truth: We need it all.
The planning. The minutiae. The shopping lists and the checking things off. The baking and the cooking. The traditions and the memory-making. And, most importantly, the people.
We need the ordinary work that makes the gathering possible, and we need the people who make all that work worthwhile.
Someday, someone may remember the cranberry sauce, the homemade rolls, the cookies that showed up every Christmas, or my nana’s party mix. They may remember who sat beside them, who told the same story again, or who was missing from the table but still very much a part of the day.
We cannot always control how much money we have, the prices we pay, how much time we have, or how smoothly the holiday comes together. But we can look for ways to prepare, to make what we have stretch, to share what we know, and to show up for the people we love.
Sometimes the it’s the traditions that begin with a list in a journal, a few ingredients picked up on sale, and a plan to make something special out of what we have and the love we cook into it!
Sometimes a gift made with our own hands is the gift we can afford to give. And sometimes, years later, those ordinary efforts become the memories everyone wants to hold on to.
Create. Learn. Gather.
Let’s keep making room for all of it.
