Thanksgiving? No thanks. Try ‘Manxgiving’

Our annual pitch for a local take on an American tradition, from our Yankee-in-residence.

As a born and bred New Yorker, Thanksgiving is in my turkey-flavoured blood. On the fourth Thursday of every November, my people gather ‘round the dining table surrounded by family members they honestly haven’t missed since last year, and dine on a variety of beige dishes they’ve sweat over all day long. Will your uncle bring up his awful take on politics over his gravy-drowned potatoes? Yes! Will you scoop an extra serving of green bean casserole on your plate and live to regret it? Also yes! But it’s tradition, and so you’ll help your mother make the pecan pie and try to gently redirect the questions about when you’re finally going to produce some grandchildren. 

Since moving to the Isle of Man in 2016, I have tried my best to recreate this momentous day in my own particular way. Take the best and leave the rest: why celebrate Thanksgiving when you can create your own Manxgiving? Free from the shackles of my extended family’s habits and without any other local Americans’ expectations, I could make this fourth Thursday in November anything I wanted it to be. 

This is a similar concept to that of Friendsgiving, where the people you actually have things in common with get together for a potluck-style pre-Thanksgiving hangout; a more casual, boozy, fun version of Thanksgiving proper. Manxgiving takes it a step further: we’re making our own thing from scratch here and you’re not getting the day off work, so it’s a free for all. I would say there’s just a few guidelines to getting it right. 

How to throw your own Manxgiving

Pick a day in late November. If we’re being traditional it would be Thursday the 28th this year, but without the long holiday weekend you’d get in America, I think it’s perfectly acceptable to celebrate on any Saturday or Sunday instead. 

First and foremost, this is a food holiday. Sure, as a child I may have learned a highly inaccurate story about a “friendship” between the Pilgrims and Indians who celebrated the first Thanksgiving together over a shared harvest with no mention of the genocide of Native Americans, but let’s just compartmentalise that outrage for another day and lean into the menu. 

• • The star of the meal is a whole turkey, ideally brined in something delicious and stuck in the oven for many, many hours. But because this is Manxgiving and you’re unlikely to find one of those to hand in Tesco in November, I think a good-old whole roast chicken in a bag is totally fine. There are plenty of opinions about side dishes, but for me there are a few core categories. Mashed potatoes with plenty of butter and garlic, herby stuffing, sweet potato casserole with marshmallow on top (the cinnamon makes it all click), green bean casserole topped with crispy fried onions, some kind of roast carrots, Brussels sprouts with a maple bacon glaze, jellied cranberry sauce ONLY from a can (you can get this online in advance if you’re serious), plenty of gravy, a fresh green salad, and a basket full of buttered dinner rolls or warm buttermilk biscuits (not cookies, we’re talking fluffy, flaky, southern American biscuits). 
  • For dessert, it’s all about pie. Pecan, pumpkin, and apple are all major players, but I’d also accept cherry, lemon meringue, or sweet potato pie. Served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top if you’re nasty. 
  • Any drinks will do (along with a cold glass of water to wash everything down), but this is a perfect excuse to mull some wine or try out a fancy autumnal ale. To impress my dad, be sure to frost your pint glass in the freezer first. 

If you’ve made it this far, surely you’re starting to realise that you’ve prepared an ungodly amount of food. This is where you’re going to need some dinner guests. In my mind, Manxgiving is kind of like a housewarming party: it’s one of the few opportunities to naturally combine your different random friend groups, seat people next to their future besties, and let the sweet, sweet carbohydrates bring everyone together. The friends who know your deepest secrets? The girls you only see at your craft group? That new guy from your yoga class who just moved to the island? Invite them all! You’ll probably need to bring out a wobbling folding table and your old camping chairs to accommodate everyone, but once the room is filled with those glorious side dishes no one will notice a thing. 

Now it’s time for the customary giving of thanks. If your group is religiously inclined, this might be a moment to thank the entity upstairs for the bounty in front of you, but personally I’ve got more of an ‘everything is a mystery so just try to enjoy it’ kind of belief system, so this is where things get a little experimental. 

1. • First, we go around the table and each person says a few things that happened in the past year that they’re thankful for. This is often pretty simple: ‘I’m thankful for all you beautiful people,’ ‘I’m thankful that I finally got promoted at my insane job,’ ‘I’m thankful for that day in March where we jumped into the sea, screaming bloody murder and loving every second.’ Humour is encouraged, but as long as it’s sincere the mood gets pretty high. 
   • Then, if you’re feeling brave, we all say what we hope to happen in the coming year, but in the past tense like it has already happened. For example, ‘I’m thankful for the amazing road-trip we took in Iceland this summer.’ Have you booked the flights yet? No! Doesn’t matter. While I can’t promise guaranteed manifestations, it does get a little spooky when you do the same exercise year-over-year, and the things you once wanted are the things you’re thankful for the following Manxgiving. Having a conversation about your hopes and dreams with your favourite people and a belly full of butter is nothing to shake a fist at, and putting your goals in the past tense makes them feel just a little more possible. 

Anyone who didn’t do the cooking helps with the cleaning, many hands make light work. You’re now free to enjoy the rest of your evening: cut a slice of pie, pack leftovers for the guests who need to duck out early, maybe it’s time for a nap, maybe you put a sport of choice on the TV, maybe those random groups of people are blending into one heartwarming gravy boat of friendship. 

Then get everyone out of your house, curl up in bed unsure you’ll ever be hungry again, and revel in the spirit of Manxgiving. Tomorrow it’s officially Christmas.