Food History: This Invention Called Thanksgiving
Ease into that Holiday Mood: How Thanksgiving Day was invented and how the meal and traditions have evolved since the 17th century, with scarce or never-before-published images.
Thanksgiving, as we know it, actually began in concept when a woman magazine editor started promoting the notion in her publications around the year 1827. Throughout her lifetime, Sarah Josepha Hale (who would soon become editor at Godey’s Lady’s Book in 1837) published articles and recipes advocating the idea of a Thanksgiving Day to her readers, especially American politicians.
“The Day of Thanksgiving would, if observed nationally, soon be celebrated in every part of the world where an American family was settled. If the third Thursday in November could be established as The Day and known as the time in each year from Maine to New Mexico and from Plymouth Rock to Pacific sands, the great American People united in this festival of gladness and gratitude, the whole world might be moved to join in the rejoicing….” (Sarah Josepha Hale, page 466, “Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine,” Nov. 1858.)
President Lincoln finally acknowledged Hale’s idea in October 1863, shortly after delivering The Gettysburg Address. He proclaimed Thanksgiving Day a National Holiday, but the President disagreed with Hale’s suggested date. Lincoln’s proclamation instead stated that the new holiday would be celebrated on the fourth Thursday in the month of November, not the third. Lincoln chose the fourth Thursday in honor of George Washington, who had initially requested, many decades earlier, that Thursday, November 26, 1789, be a day of “public thanksgiving and prayer” for the new nation.
However, even Lincoln’s proclamation was not set in stone, and the actual date for Thanksgiving Day would not be decided upon for decades to come. Although Lincoln had indeed proclaimed an annual day of Thanksgiving be set aside each year throughout the United States, the date was merely suggestive, and individual states had the right to change Thanksgiving Day to whatever day they wished.
Twelve years later, in 1875, Hale was 87 years old but still two years away from retiring as editor at Godey’s. This voguish magazine was profusely illustrated with many hand-colored engravings. It featured articles about home and health, high fashion, fiction, and nonfiction; the magazine even had pages devoted to piano and organ sheet music. Most impressive, the publication had reached one million readers that year. Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine had, by far, appreciably more readership than any other publication during the time. And so, with that significant and thriving fan base, Sarah Josepha Hale continued to pester Congress, especially while building her November Thanksgiving issues. She adjured that the Thanksgiving Day holiday needed to become a day celebrated in a unified manner throughout the United States; the day, she said, should be proclaimed as a Federal Holiday.
“Our festival will not be secure so long as it depends upon the yearly inclination of the Executive and the varying customs of several States. Congress can only ensure this great boon by enacting that, from henceforth, evermore, the last Thursday in November shall be an American Thanksgiving Day.” (Sarah Josepha Hale, page 474, “Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine,” Nov. 1875.)
Hale’s work to achieve a legal National Thanksgiving holiday was unsuccessful then, and the concept would rise and fall throughout another 66 years of ongoing political debates and proposed date changes.
Finally, President Roosevelt signed the resolution on December 26, 1941, making Thanksgiving Day a Federal Holiday, always to be celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November.
However, regardless of that political brouhaha, the Thanksgiving feast was always there. In fact, by the 1890s, Thanksgiving dinner was celebrated at home and also served in public restaurants.
Located in the wild and wooly American wilderness, The Grand Central Hotel in Helena, Montana, served an elaborate 10-course Thanksgiving meal in 1890. This Victorian-era dinner menu included every course, beginning with green turtle soup and then broiled Puget Sound salmon with anchovy butter. That was followed by young turkey stuffed with chestnuts accompanied with cranberry sauce and sugar corn, and then broiled duck on toast. And, if this wasn’t enough protein, there was also a course of fillet of beef with mushrooms and the finishing saddle of antelope with pear marmalade. Without a doubt, there were numerous vegetable side dishes accompanying each dish as it was presented.
And, yes, there was dessert: a choice of as much as one could eat of fruit meringues, pies, and homemade ice creams. But, according to reports, The Grand Central Hotel’s rich Thanksgiving plum pudding with Benedictine Sauce was the crowning glory of this holiday feast.
A year later, in 1891, Ladies Home Journal food writer Maria Parloa described how a more simple yet delicious Thanksgiving dinner could be made at home.
She wrote:
“Twenty-five years ago [during 1866], when the housekeeper busied herself for many weeks, and each member of the family was supposed to have, for Thanksgiving Day, a new suit of clothes and with that so much of the cutting and making was done at home that it was a heavy drain upon the time and strength of the housekeepers, who were expected to also provide for the holiday three substantial meals [and for which to stock the family] store closets full with pies, tarts, preserves, cakes and fruits, and [also have] the pantries overflowing with meat, poultry, and vegetables.
Today [in 1891] all this has changed; the clothing question is done away with and the meals are much simpler, particularly for breakfast and tea. Still, it is a day of family gatherings and feasting, and it is to be hoped that it will always be.” (Maria Parloa, November 1891, “Ladies Home Journal”)
Parloa recommended turkey since the bird was indigenous to this country and, therefore, a patriotic main course. For side dishes, she suggested boiled potato balls, served with parsley butter, mashed turnips, French peas, and lima beans in white sauce, alongside glazed sweet potatoes. A lengthy list of condiments was suggested for the dinner table that included pickles, cranberry sauce, and a plethora of vegetable salads. Next came preserved ginger, buttered and salted almonds, and candied cherries “arranged high on platters that should never be removed until guests have left the table.”
After dessert, Parloa suggested that crackers and cheese be served along with strong coffee in small cups, adding that the hostess should be aware that “sugar and cream are always offered, but seldom used.”
Almost a decade later, trends had already changed yet again. By the year 1899, Thanksgiving dinner was traditionally served in the middle of the afternoon. A journalist for The Delineator complained that with such a heavy meal at this time of day, one did not eat again until breakfast the following day, “so there is little wonder that the next morning brings with it a bad headache from the length of the fast imposed.”
Therefore, another new trend ensued. It was considered most proper to serve two meals on Thanksgiving Day. The traditional central feast was offered, as usual, early in the afternoon. A second meal was taken late at night, at around 10 pm, buffet style, served from a long line of chafing dishes.
“The informality of the Thanksgiving nighttime supper is lost if there is too much rigidity in serving, and it is well to be able to dispense with the help of a maid.”
This late dinner was kept warm in silver chafing dishes, with water baths heated by candles. The menu was carefully chosen with food that was considered, at that time, to be exceptionally safe when held at a warm temperature for extended periods. These dishes were also regarded as light fare for “easy late-night digestion.”
The so-called “light” late-night Thanksgiving menus traditionally included Lobster Newberg, Creamed Sweetbreads, ragouts, barbecued ham or meat curries served along with raw oysters, cheeses, brandied peaches, and plain cake with custard sauce.
By the Edwardian era, Josephine Grenier was the leading food writer and expert for Harper’s Bazar. In her professional cooking column, written in honor of Thanksgiving, she called for the return to those old-fashioned holiday recipes that were not considered the least bit trendy at the time.
”There should be a certain recognition of time-honored dishes regardless of the dictates of the latest cookbooks and diners. Turkey, cranberry sauce, mince pies, and nuts and raisins belong to Thanksgiving.” (Josephine Grenier, “Harper’s Bazar,” Thanksgiving, November, 1903.)
Grenier also put great emphasis on the table decorations:
“These should be artful and more pronounced than on other days.”
Therefore, she advised savvy hostesses to travel to the countryside for forest clippings and sprays of fresh bittersweet, bright autumn leaves, and blazing red Virginia Creeper vines. The hostess would then artfully arrange her flora in glass bowls or vases, with the strands of the smaller vines straying out over the dining tables covered with fine linen tablecloths. She recommended that the entire display be illuminated with atmospheric lighting consisting of numerous candles in twinkling brass candleholders.
Edwardian dinners were always traditionally long and complex compared to our meals today. Grenier’s recommended Thanksgiving feast would likewise be traditional in every sense of that Edwardian lifestyle.
To start, Grenier’s 1903 Thanksgiving menu dictated that such a glorious feast should always begin with fruit.
Her boozy recipe involved hulling out ripe grapefruits and then carefully cutting the rinds into basket shapes, complete with handles. The chopped citrus pulp was then added to a mixture of fresh oranges, brandied cherries, sliced bananas, and grapes. With a gentle stir, a sprinkling of sugar was tossed into the mix, and then all was doused with maraschino liquor. The grapefruit baskets were filled with the delectable mixture and then served inside crystal bowls lined with shaved ice, keeping the fruit well-chilled.
For the next course, Grenier described a clear broth with tiny green pea timbales that had been steamed in molds made, yes, from sterling silver sewing thimbles.
The menu required that a fish course, such as salmon with either hollandaise or cucumber sauce, should be served following the broth.
Then came the wild turkey stuffed with oysters, chestnuts, or celery. Grenier cautioned that the cook could add onion to the bread in this stuffing mixture, but “do not put sage or other savory things with these, or you will spoil the flavor.”
Caramelized sweet potatoes were also sent to the table, dripping with buttery melted brown sugar. Individual-sized eggplants were also served. These were hulled out, stuffed with the creamy eggplant pulp mixed with bread and seasonings, baked to a golden brown, then served piping hot.
To cleanse the palate, Grenier suggested a lemon ice as the next course in preparation for the heady main platter of roast duck or quail.
Finally, a memorable dessert course should end the meal. This, Grenier insisted, involved a flaming, brandied mince pie in addition to ice cream-filled soufflés surrounded by custard and sherry-soaked ladyfingers.
During the following year, in 1910, yet another new trend evolved on Thanksgiving Day, which involved adding at least the aura of benevolence to the otherwise rich feasting plans. Newspapers and magazines instructed sensible women to raise their own domesticated turkeys instead of killing the wild birds for Thanksgiving. Recipes also included culinary homilies urging women to be empathetic to those friends who were otherwise alone in the world or college students who could not return home to be with their families.
“If there is among your friends a washer-woman who works hard to feed and clothe her children, a seamstress whose earnings barely cover her needs, if there are orphan children in whom you take an interest, see to it that you share Thanksgiving with them in an unobtrusive way of sending good cheer.” (Margaret Sangster, “Woman’s Home Companion,” November 1910.)
Another new concept began to emerge in 1910: the idea that Christmas was just around the corner. It was about this time when Thanksgiving Day first marked the beginning of a long season of holiday parties, special confections, Christmas trees for every household, gift-making, shopping, and all that would be celebrated as The Holiday Season until the coming New Year.
“Make a cup and drink it up and call one’s neighbor in.”
That little Thanksgiving jingle was plucked from an old children’s rhyme and taken as the theme by 1915, when Thanksgiving was celebrated like a grand party.
Marjorie March, writer for The Modern Priscilla, gave detailed instructions for designing each party place setting with “Thanksgiving Day Table Fancies.”
“Fancy gourds cut into flower bowls make charming gifts. Each may hold a wee bowl of water and be filled with yellow chrysanthemums.”
She pointed out that children’s tables should be covered with a plethora of animals made from peanuts and creatively cut-out papers with joints articulated by pins. She also described at length how fashionable Thanksgiving tables were never without individual place cards, turkey-shaped paper nut bowls, as well as glistening foiled trinket boxes. Each box was filled with special treats and tiny gift surprises purchased from local shops.
As time marched through WWI, with the United States officially entering the conflict in 1917, feature stories in the media relating to home, health, and fashion discussed how best to support the military and also care for the injured veterans who made it home from the war. Money was short. Most homemakers had become home cooks by then and likely employed only one maid to help with the remaining laborious household chores. Therefore, publications printed helpful Thanksgiving recipes that were considered inexpensive as well as easy to cook.
The Modern Priscilla magazine offered a new version of the usual roasted turkey stuffing. It was made with a fatty sausage, onion, and bread mixture in a recipe that Fannie Farmer had originally created. The greasy sausage was a unique twist that kept less talented cooks from drying out the bird; overcooked turkey was a common blunder.
The editor also published recipes for Cherry Salad and a Spiced Jelly with Whipped Cream. These were sweet side dishes mostly concocted from grocery store canned goods. A Peach Trifle was recommended for dessert: simply pour the peach juice over slices of poundcake, smother with canned peaches, and serve.
By November 1918, as wartime was ending, President Herbert Hoover and the United States Food Administration launched a campaign to promote strict food budgeting due to shortages created by the war. When the armistice was signed on November 11 of that year, The Delineator had already gone to press with its brilliant full-color Thanksgiving cover illustration depicting two American women dressed in military attire. Fashionable women were no longer considered simply homemakers, and a magazine cover featuring glamorous women dressed in military uniforms was another Thanksgiving first.
But that somber wartime mood hung like a heavy, dark cloak over American families. Food, at this time, was heavily conserved in general, and there were stringent governmental rulings about the use of wheat, meat, butter, fat, and milk.
Crisco canned shortening was a household staple then, and their 1918 Thanksgiving advertisement included a wartime version of the traditional English plum pudding. Crisco’s advertising team heavily promoted their WWI recipe in every positive light:
“Make a steamed oat flour pudding your dessert for the feast of the homecoming day and you will give the boys a dessert worthy of them, and you. Light and spicy, with a creamy sauce as delicious as nectar; yet the recipe strictly conforms to the Government’s conservation plans.”
Although it may have sounded slightly better on paper, the dessert was actually a tasteless, doughy concoction that did not hold together. And so, Crisco called it “pudding.”
Heavy on the shortening, the recipe called for a weighty amount of oat flour, a single egg plus a small amount of milk, a teaspoon of ‘mixed spices’, and a cup of raisins. The oily, gooey sauce was essentially melted shortening with a few spoonfuls of sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla extract mixed in. As a side comment, Proctor & Gamble (who made the highly processed Crisco from cottonseed oil and then launched the product in 1911) condescendingly warned readers to be sure to “use accurate and level measurements exactly as officially required by the U.S. Government.”
American prosperity returned during the Roaring Twenties. By 1928, Thanksgiving again was the day that celebrated the opening to the Christmas Holiday Season, and most publications skipped over Thanksgiving Day almost entirely. Instead, The Modern Priscilla cover that year led off with “100 Ideas for Christmas Gifts,” and nearly every page was focused on jazzy, flapper-styled party fashions, expensive Christmas toys, and heart-felt and time-consuming homemade gifts. That November, at least as far as the magazine publications were concerned, there wasn’t a turkey or stuffing recipe in sight.
It is no surprise because, yet again, trends shifted. Prohibition came and went, and an incredibly frugal Thanksgiving made a comeback during the Great Depression years of the 1930s.
Then, the Second World War raged, and when World War II ended in 1945, food restrictions relaxed. Thanksgiving that year was all about food and more of it. Although war rationing was still in effect until 1946, a lively black market existed, and people could indeed buy meat and sugar on the sly, but at exorbitantly inflated prices.
Thanksgiving menus and recipes published during the late 1940s have that familiar ring to what we consider traditional today: roast turkey with sage dressing, gravy, biscuits, mashed potatoes, cranberry orange sauce, watermelon pickles, sweet potatoes glazed with marmalade, buttered cauliflower, and pumpkin pie.
But as the post-war 1950s baby boom ensued, the Thanksgiving holiday heavily featured loads of autumn treats and activities such as school plays with lots of little pilgrims dressed in crêpe paper costumes. Pages in publications were devoted to Thanksgiving-related crafts and dress-ups to celebrate the supposedly true historic feast day. Although dinner menus in magazines and newspapers continued to reflect traditional recipes from the late 30s and early 40s, the new emphasis in the 50s was on baking sugary holiday treats, especially cookies. In fact, the media frenzy with the cookie and confection bake-offs began in that decade, and publications featuring dozens upon dozens of holiday baking recipes have continued well into our traditions today.
“Why not have a cookie decorating party and award a prize for the prettiest? Why not raise money at a cookie bazaar? Why not serve the children cereal cookies with fruit juice and milk for breakfast? Why not say good-bye to parting weekend guests with baskets filled with cookies wrapped in multi-colored cellophane?” (“Good-Housekeeping,” November 1957.)
Since then, multiple creative and mixed family traditions on Thanksgiving Day involve historical family recipes as well as those that are entirely new. Thanksgiving Day, as it has in the past, also marks the beginning of weeks of Holiday shopping, parties, and celebrations that often last well into the New Year.
Although our relatively recent history of Thanksgiving during the Covid pandemic reflects a painful gap when families and friends were kept apart, we always decisively come back together again, especially around the Thanksgiving table.
And, as it appears, everyone is working this year more diligently and earlier than usual to make this holiday season happier, especially during these difficult times throughout the world.
Whether we are stuffing a real turkey or one made from tofu, we continue to put aside this particular time to say thanks right out loud. Regardless of traditions, religions, or menus, Thanksgiving has become the day when we toast to one another and to our absent friends; we raise our glasses in the name of gratitude and hope for the future.
And so, with that in mind, I wish you all a most Happy and Blessed Thanksgiving!
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Thank you so much for sharing "The Beige Meal" with us. That is a genuinely terrific description that is so appropriate and, for me, certainly memorable! It means a lot to read your comment, and I greatly appreciate that you took the time! Happy Holidays!
Interesting history. With humor and some small disdain, my family has come to refer to the traditional Thanksgiving dinner as “the beige meal,” referring to turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, corn pudding, gravy, green bean casserole (doused in a creamy sauce and covered with crisp onions to beige it up), pumpkin pie, apple pie, pecan pie - all in various hues of brown and beige. Every year when I suggest lobster or standing rib of roast beef or lasagna instead, I’m met with a chorus of “no, we want the beige meal.” So, beige meal it is. My version of gingered cranberry chutney is the only bright spot of color on the table! And of course, the beige meal leftovers are always devoured as well.