I have memories of my mom walking thru the garden during the mornings in her bathrobe with an old rusty kitchen knife that she had bent in the shape of an ‘L’. Her knife was a designated killing weapon intended for slugs; without hesitation.
Thanksgiving IS gravy. Second only to aged boozy eggnog in its importance on my holiday table. For my husband, turkey, stuffing, potatoes, flaky yeast rolls, even Brussels sprouts and cranberries are mere vehicles by which gravy is transported from plate to palate. One day a year, it is a food group of its own.