My family didn’t put up a fight when I—an earnest 12-year-old—declared I’d be taking over Thanksgiving dinner in 2013.
The holiday stirs up little passion in my parents, who were born in China and didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving with conventional fare until having me and my sister, years after immigrating to the United States. The cuisine of these celebrations was lackluster, at that—usually some combination of Boston Market, Costco, and Acme dishes, reheated with as much sentiment as the food was originally prepared with. Still I ate it up, approximating the feasts I saw in magazines and on TV.
Eventually, my ambitions grew. I wanted to craft a Thanksgiving meal that honored the holiday and appealed to my family’s immigrant palates. More than a decade later, I’m still figuring out what works: turkey wings suit our small family better than a whole bird, stuffing flops unless it’s made with cornbread, and no one cares about green bean casserole as much as I do.
But early on, I discovered a hit that would headline every Thanksgiving table: Creamed Corn Like No Other. It’s my family’s staple Thanksgiving dish, no question.
