A heap of Thanksgiving measurement

In our modern age we rely on precision in our measurements.

Even when we don’t need it, our devices give it to us. Google maps tell us how far away Grandma’s house is, down to the tenth of a mile. Our scale gives us our weight to the hundredth of a pound. Our workout app relays our time on the treadmill down to the thousandth of a second. The calorie counter uses something called a “mililiter.” I have no idea how much that is, but it sounds too small to be satisfying.

This week of all weeks when we prepare and sit down to our Thanksgiving feasts, our measurements will veer almost imperceptibly into the colloquial. We’ll use a “dash” of baking powder in our pumpkin loaf. We’ll ask for a “heap” of cornbread dressing as the base for a “pile” of turkey.

I relish the imprecision of Southern expressions of measurement. Like much of the South’s colorful language, it emanates from a place of euphemism designed to help people save face or maybe exaggerate their appetite.

If you know deep down you don’t need seconds of the congealed salad but you can’t help yourself on account of you only get it this one day of the year, you might ask for “just a bite.” I, for one, have adopted my mother-in-law’s term for a small portion, “dibble.” It makes supper time so much more fun, even at meals other than Thanksgiving. You should try it sometime. Everyone will know what it means, and it never gets old, despite what your eye-rolling teenagers might say.

When I was a much younger man and had occasion to share festive meals with my two brothers, we staged manliness competitions with the quantities of food we consumed. If you’re at Thanksgiving with a bunch of the menfolk with similar disdain for dainty portions, they may ask for a “heap” of mashed potatoes, a “tub” of the field peas, a “pile” of creamed corn or a “chunk” of ham.

These words convey magnitude rather than epicurean attention to detail. They work best with your basic meal components like potatoes. It doesn’t sound right to say you want a “tub of that cranberry sauce.” Everyone knows that if it comes from a can, it’s appropriate to ask for a “slice” of cranberry sauce. Or if you are feeling very fancy, you might opt for a “smidgen.”

No matter how you describe your quantities in consuming your Thanksgiving meal, the real art of these measuring words shows up in the preparation.

I am not great in the kitchen. I am fastidious and hung up on exact measurements. If a recipe says to use a tablespoon, I will find the official measuring spoon and get a level quantity of whatever ingredient I’m using. Heaven forbid I accidentally use a “heaping spoonful” of a substance because in my mind I might ruin the sweet potato casserole.

More experienced chefs know there is wiggle room in recipes and have no trouble seasoning a dish “to taste.” If you hear them say something needs a “drop” of this or a “pinch” of that, you can rest assured these folks know what that means. I, on the other hand, would be in a panic.

There are many subtle variations to help us navigate with grace the preparations for our Thanksgiving feast and the delicate euphemisms we employ to help us feel better about our gluttony. These units of measure are better than the metric system, imperial system, and U.S. customary system put together, and they communicate so much more than just quantity.

If you want to play a fun game this Thanksgiving, print this commemorative edition of New South Essays (after you have clicked, liked and subscribed, of course) and make copies for all your guests. Then have them circle one of these words when they hear it used naturally in the conversation around the table.

Here’s an incomplete list that you should listen out for this week:

• Heap
• Dibble
• Tub
• Smidgen
• Pinch
• Dash
• Bite
• Slice
• Passle
• Half
• Bunch
• Pile
• Bowl
• Plate
• Bit
• Drop
• Helpin’
• Taste
• Chunk
• Other: _________________

Whatever you do, don’t call someone out for using a “small” word when serving themselves a “big” amount of food. That’s impolite. On this one day of all days, give folks a pass. If they want to call a quart of giblet gravy a “drop,” you let them. By the time everyone has awakened from their tryptophan-induced nap and the Cowboys are finding a new way to lose a football game in dramatic fashion, no one will remember the misuse of the informal measuring system. Just let it go. Covering each other’s foibles is part of the Thanksgiving tradition.

Now, get to cookin’. You’ve got a pile folks comin’ and you need to whip up a mess of mac ‘n cheese.

Happy Thanksgiving!

What are your go-to measuring words? Which ones have you heard MeMaw and Gran Gran say over the years that make you get tickled? Leave a comment and add to our list.