Thanksgiving in London/TeenE sings at St. Paul's Cathedral

Thanksgiving: it is not just a verb about being in a grateful state of mind. To Americans, the word “Thanksgiving” conjures up thoughts of home, of time spent with family, of a “traditional” menu, and of course, of watching game after game of football.

Our first Thanksgiving in London had many traditional American elements, but was also endowed with a British accent. The three of us went to church, feasted on a traditional turkey dinner, watched TV, and took a walk. This description hardly does justice, however, to the Old World setting in which this all took place.

The grocery shopping for the Thanksgiving feast took a completely different form. In our hometown of Belmont, Massachusetts, the shopping would have started the week before the cooking got started. A large turkey would have been obtained. If frozen, it would be defrosted in the refrigerator starting on the Sunday before the holiday. A 14 to 20 pound bird takes at least three days to defrost. Wine would be obtained from the liquor store. Several trips to the supermarket would ensure that all the required elements were on hand. Undoubtedly, Hubster would make at least one last-minute run for whatever we had forgotten. All of this running around would be conducted in the ten-year-old red minivan. We would start cooking the night before. Wine would be chilled. The house would be cleaned for company. Pumpkin pies would be baked, if there would be room to store them overnight in the fridge. Perhaps the mashed potatoes or the sweet potato casserole would be prepared in advance. Even the “traditional” green bean casserole (made with cream-of-mushroom soup and festooned with crispy onion rings—did they Pilgrims have that on their menu?) could be prepared ahead. A last minute check would be made on the “cranberry sauce situation”. Some years we would have two kinds, both the jelly version that comes out in the shape of the can, and a chunky version that I make myself. I will never forget our first Thanksgiving as a married couple in 1986, when we hosted the meal in our tiny “married student apartment” at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH. Hubster’s parents his sister (NHsis) and his youngest brother Tom drove up from their NH home 70 miles away, while my brother Bill took the Amtrak “Montrealer” train from NYC to White River Junction. That particular year I made a homemade cranberry-orange sauce, and it was utterly rejected by Tom. I’ve never made that mistake again. I also made a chestnut-based stuffing/dressing that was NOT a hit. Ever since, I’ve made the traditional Bahlke family Pepperidge Farm stuffing mix with crumbled sweet Italian sausage. Since Son became a vegetarian in 2005, I’ve made some stuffing with the sausage, and some without.
The family Thanksgiving also includes an appearance of the china and crystal we received as wedding gifts, one of the two or three times a year that our finery sees the light of day.
This year we had to reinvent Thanksgiving the “ex-pat” way. On Wednesday, I took the underground to High Street Kensington, to visit the Whole Foods grocery store. Yes, this is the same Whole Foods that is located in Cambridge, Mass, which Hubster likes to call “Whole Paycheck”. One can buy deliciously fresh, high quality produce, meats, cheese, grains, etc. for high quality prices. The food is delicious however, and the brand’s emphasis on wholesome freshness without additives or trans-fats makes it worth the extra coinage if one wants to play that game.

Whole Foods are no dummies, and cleverly arranged to be at the St. John’s Wood Women’s Club Member’s Marketplace in early November. That is where I picked up the brochure for a catered Thanksgiving dinner. Hubster and I were sure we didn’t want to spend the whole day in the kitchen cooking a turkey with all the traditional side dishes just to feed the three of us. The miniature size of our flat precludes inviting more than one or two other people, but we didn’t feel like entertaining anyway. Many of our American School friends had taken off for European or Middle Eastern destinations, so our favorite people weren’t even available to combine forces at some other house.

For “only” thirty-six pounds, we could get an already-prepared meal that we would just have to heat up. This is considerably less than we would have paid to eat out, even if we could have found a place that served a traditional roast turkey menu. (They seem to eat that on Christmas here). For our money, we received two already-cooked turkey breasts, cornbread stuffing, gravy, cranberry-orange relish, mashed potatoes, pureed butternut squash with nuts, green beans with shallots (not quite crispy onion rings, but…) and an apple crumble. This was advertised as meal “for two”. We figured it would feed the three of us easily, and we were not disappointed. There were enough leftovers for us to have them TWICE.

The meal had been ordered by telephone, but they were not taking credit card payments over the phone. One had to go to the store and pay for the order. Also, “free” delivery was only if the order was over 50 pounds, which ours was not. So while in the store I had to pad the order with additional items. Throwing a few things in the cart, including wine, brought the total to 72 pounds, about what it costs to feed the three of us for a week at Sainsbury’s.
I made my way back to the flat by underground, and the the food was delivered at 5 pm that night. Everything was cleverly allocated space in the tiny fridge.

We got up early (for a day off) on Thursday. TeenE was slated to sing at St. Paul’s Cathedral for the Tgiving day service there. She had been attending many choir rehearsals with her friend TeenA across the street, whose parents offered to get them there by taxi. She had just had the sole of her foot operated on the day before (see previous posting) and couldn’t walk easily. So out the door she went at 7:45 am. Hubster and BlogMama followed at around 9 by underground. Once at St. Paul’s, the famous steps were cordoned off by security barriers. We went through a bag-check. The gentleman was very thorough. We entered the sanctuary through the huge revolving doors and made our way down the aisle after being greeted by vergers or some such C of E personages.

The mother of another one of TeenE’s friends, MomS, had saved us seats waaaay up front. The church has concentric rings of chairs right underneath the dome, and we found ourselves in the fourth row of those, so were almost underneath the geometric center of the dome, with a great view of the narthex, the pulpit, and the choir stalls. We chatted with MomS, whose husband was in Mumbai at the time of the bombings there the night before. Thankfully he was safe, but the thoughts of everyone in the church were on that situation. The three rows ahead of us were reserved for members of the American Embassy, so that helped to explain the high security out front. We learned that the security dogs had come through before the choir arrived, and that the only way to get into the church as a choir member was to show your music as your security pass.

While we were waiting for the service to begin, Hubster spotted his former boss, BossD, among the thousands milling around. We said hello, found his wife in the crowd, and did the traditional mwanh/mwanh two-cheek kissy thing. They are originally from Zimbabwe, and due to the political situation there can never go back. They currently reside in London, and BossD is still a colleague of Hubster’s.

Here is the order of worship for St. Paul’s Thanksgiving Day service-Nov 27, 2008
The service began with music played by the “sub-organist” at St. Paul’s. The Magnificat Primi Toni by Buxtehude, and Prelude and Fugue in A minor by J.S. Bach resonated through the magnificent cathedral. The Dean and Chapter left the Dean’s Aisle and proceeded to the Great West Doors of the cathedral, where they received the Ambassador of the United States of America and his wife Mrs. Robert H. Tuttle.

Then, College of Minor Canons, the visiting Clergy, and the College of Canons left the Dean’s Aisle and proceeded to the places in the Quire. We all stood as the Ambassador and Mrs. Tuttle were escorted by the Dean and Chapter to their places under the Dome. The color Guard, made up of Marines who were Iraq war veterans, (3 men and 1 woman) presented the colors at the Dome Altar while the congregation sang the hymn Come, Ye Thankful People, Come.
This was followed by the Bidding, given by the Dean, the Right Reverend Graeme Knowles, and the Lord’s Prayer. Then, the combined choirs of the American Church in London and the International Community Church in Surrey (home church for BossD and his wife.) sang the anthem, consisting of words from Psalm 69, 9, 12, music by Charles Villiers Stanford. The first lesson, Isaiah 12, 1-6, was read by the Reverend Canon Lucy Winkett, Precenter and Canon in Residence. The second hymn to be sung by the 3,000-plus congregation was We Gather Together to Ask the Lord’s Blessing, which has its roots in an old Dutch hymn. The second lesson was from Colossians 3, 12-17, read by Vivian Hunt, a congregant of the American Church in London.

There followed the Explanation of Need, and the Offering, which was designated to be given to the Camden and City Churches Cold Weather Shelter. Once again the combined choirs of the two American Churches sang an anthem, Come Holy Ghost, words by John Cosin (1594-1672), music by Thomas Attwood (1765-1838). Then came President Bush’s Proclamation, read by the Honorable Robert H. Tuttle. Afterwards, there were prayers of thanksgiving and intercession led by two women ministers and three students, one of whom attends the American School in London with TeenE. Another hymn, this time Now Thank We All Our God, a German hymn by Martin Rinkart (1586-1649) to the tune Nun Danket (J. Cruger, 1598-1662).

This brought us to the sermon, given by the Reverend Dr. Barry Gaeddert of the International Community Church. After this, the congregation was “invited” to stand and sing America the Beautiful (words by Katherine Lee Bates—illustrious president of my alma mater Wellesley College), music “Materna” by Samuel A. Ward., during which the colors were retired by the color guard. Finally, the Dean gave the blessing, the Dean and Chapter escorted the Ambassador of the United States of America and Mrs. Robert H. Tuttle to the Great West Doors, and the College of Minor Canons, the visiting Clergy, and the College of Canons returned to the Dean’s Aisle. The organ voluntary Incantation pour un jour saint (Jean Langlais, 1907-91) played them out.

Being Congregationalists who sprang from the spiritual roots of our Pilgrim forebears, all of the pomp and ceremony that made up the service was new to me. I wondered what the Pilgrims, who left England for the freedom to worship in their plain, unadorned and NON-Church of England way, would think of this service. It did, of course, contain all the “traditional” hymns that we’ve all sung since grade school (even singing many of them IN school, before it became non-PC to sing about God in school).

Of course, the church service was not complete without the comment by Hubster that all the gilt and glory should be sold off and the proceeds donated to the poor. Cathedrals leave him cold.
We had some difficulty meeting up with TeenE afterward, as she was whisked down to the crypt and exited out a side door, while we were left milling around near the altar trying to get a message to her.As we were waiting outside on the West Front steps, our neighbors MomT and DadT were still inside, and were accosted for an interview by a reporter for the NYTimes, doing an article on how the changing economy was affecting Americans in London. See link for the article:

The best part of the whole gorgeous, ineffable experience was knowing that our beautiful TeenE’s voice was among those soaring to the great vault and inspiring us all to attain communion with something higher and better than ourselves, no matter what the state of our beliefs. Only the day before she had been in the hospital of St. John and St. Elizabeth sitting next to a photo of St. Paul's having her foot operated on by the good Dr. D., and the next she was part of the service within the great cathedral. We are grateful for all our blessings, no matter how far from our family and friends we may be.