People usually go all out when it comes to Thanksgiving dinner. Days of preparation, careful attention to not overcook the turkey, a hefty selection of desserts and side dishes: the holiday’s all about getting the biggest, most impressive spread put together.
But sometimes, Thanksgiving doesn’t always go as planned and you end up with some disastrous results.
Like this charred-beyond-recognition turkey.
But it turns out that there are way worse things that can happen at Thanksgiving than just a burnt bird.
Like these Redditors shared some of the saddest meals they ever had the misfortune of eating (or attempting to eat), many of them at Thanksgiving.
These depressing tales are sure to make you thankful for even the most humble of turkey-day meals. Some of them are just plain unappetizing, others, are real tear-jerkers. So be forewarned: these get very, very real.
The only edible things in the house were condiments and a six month old box of bread crumbs. I mixed butter and jam with the bread crumbs to make these jam sandwich balls. They were shit.
Then I thought, “Frying makes everything better. I should fry these.”
I put them all in a pan and put it on the stove.
They all promptly melted.
I ended up just adding more bread crumbs till it turned into this greasy, jam flavoured, bread crumb soup.
I ate it.
I was in the 2nd grade when I slept over at my best friend’s house for the first time. I knew her family wasn’t well off; her mom had recently split and her dad picked up a night job at a local factory to support his kids. Their dinner was at 430 in the afternoon so he could eat with his children before he had to go to work, and each child was served only 2 of those cheap, pink, off-brand weenies. No buns, no ketchup, no chips. At the time I thought it was so sad and awful, but now as I write this I realize that I am oddly thankful for that meal because now I can see what a generous gesture it was for him to feed me too.
My father passed away on Thanksgiving last year. The hospice center had a chef on staff who was kind enough to cook a full dinner for the families visiting that day. I had Thanksgiving dinner sitting next to my comatose father who would die two hours later. Definitely not the best way to spend the holiday.
My parents never really got along as I grew up, and even as a kid I kinda knew my parents didn’t love each other. One day when I was 10, my mom finally packed up and left while my dad was at work. Except she entirely gutted the house; furniture, clothes, dishes, silverware, electronics, everything, packed into the back of a U-Haul and drove off and left me. I remember crying and screaming and clinging onto to her leg to not go, or at least take me with her.
Anyway, I called my dad and told him what happened. He couldn’t leave work early, but said he’d be home as soon as possible and to lock all the doors and windows and stay safe inside. I have no idea why, but I remembered these panini-type sandwiches my dad made all the time for me, and decided to make one for him. I think I just needed something to do. So I made him a sandwich, put it on one of the paper plates I found, as my mom had taken all the other dishes, and sat on the front stoop and waited for him. I kinda just stared at it, and ended up sitting out there for about four hours. When my dad got home, he was shocked to see the house gutted. I kinda just held up the plate to him and said “I made this for you.” and he took it, sat next to me, and ate it with me. I could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry in front of me, so I pretended not to notice him tearing up.
The day my dad died I went to his favorite bar where they sold steak for lunch. I sat down in his favorite seat and ate in silence. The owner sat down next to me and ate his lunch too. “Your dad was very proud of you. He was always talking about you kids.” I didn’t think I had it in me to cry anymore, but I lost it. Patrons started gathering around and hugging me and crying. These were tough old folks. Miners, concrete workers and brick layers all crying. It was the saddest and yet most beautiful meal of my life.
Ketchup on crackers. I was like poor poor for a while. So, I ate some weird shit. Basically whatever I could get my hands on. Used to steal crackers from the soup buffet at the store.
4 stale crackers and the scrapings out of a peanut butter jar that I found in my own garbage. One mans trash is that same mans meal. Not to mention my power was out so I ate it by a window.
Chinese chicken salad, alone, in the cafeteria of Sacred Heart in Spokane the day my first son was born. He and I were airlifted to the NICU, my wife was in the hospital in Moscow, Idaho, waiting to be released to join us…
I had no money, a dying cell phone, and was feeling utterly alone, scared, and lost…
Every week I would take my daughter to the local farmers market and buy her a pretzel. Every week she ate it with a big smile on her face. Years we did this and then we were moving across country.
For some reason that last pretzel we ate made me realize our thing was ending. It left me very sad to watch our first real daddy daughter ritual end so soon.
Every so often she brings up how much she loved those pretzels.
2 slices of bread with tomato sauce in between
My dad once made me scrambled eggs and put bananas in the eggs.
My English professor always liked to tell the story of his Thanksgiving during his freshman year of college. He had moved away, and his mom and gotten a new boyfriend, so he decided to be a big tough man and stay in the dorms over the holiday so he wouldn’t bother his mom. He didn’t realize how empty everything would be. He said he was the only one left in his hall, and that all he could manage for Thanksgiving dinner was a bag of potato chips and a can of spam he bought from a 7-11 down the road. He can’t stand the thought of Spam now- not because of the taste, but because it reminds him of how lonely he was.