Thanksgiving Dinner Stars at 2 and Other Lies

Every year, we pack up the car, head to New Jersey, and prepare for the annual culinary betrayal known as “Thanksgiving Dinner Starts at 2.”

Spoiler: It never starts at 2.

It has never once started at 2.

I sit there, starving, feral, and slowly losing vision.

Meanwhile, the experts — the people with degrees and actual scientific knowledge — are out here saying this?

Earlier! Columbia University literally wants us to eat like senior citizens at a Florida buffet. And honestly? I support this. I’m hungry. Feed me at noon. Feed me at 11. Let’s carve the turkey at sunrise like civilized people.

The science makes sense: eat earlier, feel better later. If you overdo it at 1 p.m., you still have time to walk it off, hydrate, or lie dramatically on a couch and moan. But if you eat a giant mountain of stuffing at 7 p.m., you’re basically signing up for nighttime stomach fireworks and the kind of reflux that makes you question your life choices.

Experts also say we should stop pretending portion control is a myth. What you eat matters as much as when. Apparently, loading up three servings of mashed potatoes at 2 p.m. will make you feel worse than one serving at 6 p.m.
(Shocking. Truly shocking.)

But here’s the tip that really hurts: don’t skip breakfast.

Don’t. Skip. Breakfast.

Yes, I know you want to “save space,” but according to nutritional grown-ups, that move backfires. Your blood sugar crashes, your stomach acid rages, and then when dinner FINALLY shows up (three hours late, cough New Jersey), you inhale food like a woodland creature who’s never seen civilization.

So this year, I’ll eat breakfast. I’ll pace myself. I’ll plan for a 2 p.m. dinner that will definitely start at 5:37.

And I’ll still be starving.

Happy Thanksgiving!