Thanksgiving is probably the one holiday in America that focuses exclusively on food: on creating a table of bountiful, delicious food, and then enjoying it wholeheartedly. You don't have to buy cards or wrap presents, you don't have to churn through a bunch of holiday-themed activities or try to create and then sustain family traditions. The goal is simple: gather around the table with loved ones, give thanks, and then feast.
Is this our culture's last ceremonial meal? Perhaps. There is something about it that reminds me of Pasach, of the Passover meal shared in Jewish homes, to mark the great exodus. Like the Jews who celebrate with Passover, we eat particular foods, on a particular day, to remember a time of great need and great redemption. We eat the foods, and we remember, and we explain them to our children.
On Thanksgiving, the foods that we eat tell a story - a story of where we came from, and who we are. This is an identity-forming meal, and one that certainly shaped my own sense of cultural identity when I was growing up.