( RealSimple.com ) -- My mother was no domestic goddess . She was a golfing , blackjack-playing , martini-drinking sort who had little to do with cooking , sewing , or , God forbid , `` crafts . '' Throughout my childhood , we ate Thanksgiving dinner at the golf club . This was essentially my parents ' place of worship . Both my sister and I were eventually married there , and we recently scattered my mother 's ashes on the ninth hole . The best thing about Thanksgiving at the club , as far as I was concerned , was the magnificent centerpieces the staff assembled : towering assemblages of nuts , fruit , chocolates , and candles in the shape of Pilgrim children that made my sister and me twitch with acquisitive longing . RealSimple.com : Upgrade your Thanksgiving table settings . Once I left home , I did things rather differently . Starting at the age of 19 , I cooked myself silly every Thanksgiving . Even during my vegetarian years , and on through brining and turducken and other frivolities , I compensated for my mother 's uninterest . This particular rebellion of mine was just fine with her , as she was widowed early on and happy to have a reason to visit me . She would come clear across the country if necessary , always bringing her contribution : the centerpiece , a creation soon known as Mr. Turkey . Mr. Turkey had a simple red-felt turkey head , with a black-bead eye on either side , and was attached to the butt end of a pineapple with straight pins . You laid the fruit on its side so that the leaves took the place of tail feathers and ... ta-da ! Faux fowl ! RealSimple.com : 7 authors share tales of family Thanksgiving traditions . Even though the S-shaped seams of the neck were ironed together in the manner of a third-grade art project , I am quite sure my mother did not make the turkey head herself . Perhaps it was a gift from one of the ladies at the bridge table . When an eye fell off , we drew one on with a Sharpie . And it was charming , in an outsider art-meets-Lillian Vernon kind of way . I put it at the center of my table every year , always surrounded by a flock of hand-carved apple swans I had learned how to make in my early 20s from a chef friend . RealSimple.com : The best turkey essentials . We found Mr. Turkey 's head up in the closet with the wrapping paper after my mother died , its edges rotting slightly from seeping pineapple juice . Since she has been gone , I somehow feel less like cooking . Last year I stuck his head on a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau in the dining room of a nearby hotel . I ordered the smoked-salmon appetizer . I know my mother would have approved . Get a FREE TRIAL issue of Real Simple - CLICK HERE ! Copyright © 2010 Time Inc. All rights reserved .
The author compensated for her mother 's uninterest in cooking by cooking . The author 's mother brought a centerpiece known as the Turkey every Thanksgiving . It was at the center of the table every year , surrounded by hand - carved apple swans .