Every year, I look forward to Thanksgiving. But not the Thursday with turkey, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes. I look forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving, otherwise known as Italian Thanksgiving. Like many Italian gatherings, it centers all around food. For the past few years, it’s been hosted at my parent’s house.

The kitchen is converted to a banquet hall, with about six tables, some folding, some dining, mismatched together to create one long eating surface. Table cloths try to hide the different structures and disguise it as one, but the varying heights give it away. Having totally exhausted the turkey route, our table is filled with just about any other food you can think of. The day starts early, around 1 p.m. with sips and bites.