Burnt rolls and a sacrifice of praise

My mother had a culinary tradition at Thanksgiving.  She burnt the dinner rolls.  Every year, like a burnt sacrifice on the altar, not toasted brown, but charred.  I can still smell that familiar aroma.

With our own family, we had culinary favorites that we made each year:  turkey, cornbread stuffing, green beans, mashed potatoes and sweet potato casserole.  Every year, I purchased a can of jelled cranberry sauce.  And every year, about four weeks later, I realized that no one, after all, was going to eat it.

In the past few years, our grown daughters have trekked outside the limitations of tradition, and we have tried new recipes, thinking a little differently about our offerings for this holiday.

I thought this morning about the menu for next Thursday.  How best to prepare?  And I wondered, what am I really bringing to the table this year?  The same old list of thanks?  A litany of repeated gratitude, ordinary and overcooked like the beans?

Or a whole new menu of praise? 

Enter His gates with thanksgiving,
         and His courts with praise!
Give thanks to Him,
                          bless His name.

                        Psalm 100.4

It is good to give thanks to the LORD,
to sing praises to Your name, O Most High,
to declare Your steadfast love in the morning,
and Your faithfulness by night...

                         Psalm 92.1-2