Thanksgiving With Two Menus
In some homes, the turkey comes out looking exactly like the one on the magazine cover. In others, it is stuffed with rice, ground meat, toasted pine nuts, and almonds, perfumed with cinnamon and all…
In some homes, the turkey comes out looking exactly like the one on the magazine cover. In others, it is stuffed with rice, ground meat, toasted pine nuts, and almonds, perfumed with cinnamon and allspice, and nobody at the table thinks that is unusual.
If you grew up Arab or MENA in America, Thanksgiving is often the holiday where both halves of you sit down together. The cranberry sauce lives next to the tabbouleh. There is mashed potato and there is rice with vermicelli. Someone insists on bringing kibbeh. Somebody else's aunt will "just bring a little something," which turns out to be four trays.
The two-menu table
There is a kind of unspoken joy in the Thanksgiving table that holds two cultures. It is the same holiday your American friends are celebrating, and it is also very much yours. No one thinks it is a contradiction. It is just dinner.
Maybe your family's version looks like this:
- A turkey with hashweh, the rice and nut stuffing, instead of bread stuffing
- Stuffed grape leaves beside the green beans
- Baklava and pumpkin pie on the same dessert table
- Mint tea, Arabic coffee, or both, once everyone has eaten far too much
- A group chat arguing about whether the turkey is dry, in two languages
It is warm, loud, and over-fed. It is also, for many of us, one of the clearest pictures of what it looks like to be at home in two places at once.
And then there are the people who are not at that table
Here is the other side of the holiday, and we would like to say it out loud. Not everyone has a table this year.
Maybe you moved to New York for work and your family is a flight or a drive away, and you cannot get there. Maybe you are far from home, and the schedule or the cost makes it impossible. Maybe your family is somewhere that is hard to reach right now, or hard to think about. Maybe it has been a difficult year, and you are not sure you feel like celebrating at all. Maybe you are simply tired of being the only one who stays behind.
The holiday can feel the loudest when you are the quietest person in it. Everyone's feed fills up with turkey and family photos, and your own evening looks very still by comparison. If that is you, you are not alone, and it does not mean you did something wrong.
Some ideas that help
- Gather what you have. One friend, two friends, a neighbor, a coworker who is also staying in town. A holiday does not need a headcount to count.
- Cook one dish that tastes like home. Even a small one. Smell is a powerful bridge.
- Call someone. Not text. A phone call or video call during their cooking can feel like pulling up a chair.
- Say yes to the invitation. If someone invites you, go. Hosts often mean it more than you think.
- Plan something for the day after. A walk, a movie, a brunch. The holiday weekend is long.
A seat, if you want one
This is where Finjani comes in. We exist for exactly the people who would love a table and have not found one yet. If you are new to the city, far from family, or just looking for a different kind of gathering this season, take the one-minute quiz and request a spot at an upcoming experience. We will build a small group with care, choose the place, and handle the details. You show up.
Think of it as a table with an open chair. No applications, no velvet rope, no performance. Come as you are, with a story, with a dish, or with nothing at all.
And if you do have a full table this Thanksgiving, here is a small ask: look around it. Is there someone who might not have one? Adding a seat is the oldest kind of hospitality there is.
Fill your cup.