When the sweet potatoes get passed around our Thanksgiving Day table this Thursday, they will make their way served in a clear glass casserole with little fanfare and aided by a couple of well worn pot holders. The potatoes will be homegrown from the rich earth of the family farm. They will be a familiar muted burnt orange color and cut up in tried and true little wedges. They will be swimming in a sweet sugar coating, the taste of which I can conjure up from memory.

Our sweet potatoes will not come seared off the grill. They will not emerge from the kitchen in the company of marshmallows. No novelty, or newness or aggrandizement will confuse or complicate our Thanksgiving sweet potatoes. No, our sweet potatoes will arrive at the feast in the most welcome of manners: familiar and plain.

This is how I like things, I like things plain.

A hot chocolate is a nice warming drink when cold holiday weather arrives. If one must, a dollop of whipped cream can top off my hot chocolate anytime. I will not object. But please, keep the peppermint stick out of the drink. And hold any form of sprinkle you might be tempted to add. Do not confuse me, or your humble assignment, with the option of soy or of nutmeg. And sorry, once again, for consistency sake - ichsney to the marshmallows.

One plain hot chocolate will due just fine.

If hot apple cider is more your liking, then let’s put a little heat under some apple cider. That will do the trick. No cinnamon sticks need complicate the flavor, and please, no sugary crust on the rim of the glasses. Whoever came up with that option has never been assigned to dish washing detail.

Plain apple cider, heated a little bit, how nice and how plain that would be.

I never thought I’d have to state the obvious when it comes to Thanksgiving turkey. Turkeys should be baked, in an oven - for a long, long time. Turkeys should not be fried in a deep fryer; they should not be grilled like a common hamburger in the back yard. They should turn wonderfully brown in an oven with a window and a light and an adoring crowd checking on them.

And it should be obvious to all, said turkey should not be glazed or drizzled or dabbled with anything other than butter. And for clarity sake, and so there is no misunderstanding by anyone, no form of marshmallow melted, puréed, whipped or otherwise transformed should come near the turkey.

A turkey baked in an oven for Thanksgiving, how familiar, how traditional, how delightfully plain

Somewhere along the line, folks have confused good cooking with fancy, schmancy complex cooking. I blame this on all these cooking shows on television. If these celebrity chefs kept their recipes and instruction to the basics, well, they would be in reruns after a month or two. But if they shun the good and plain and keep cooking complicated - well there’s job security for you.

And then there’s the whole marshmallow conspiracy thing. I mean marshmallows, if they belong on earth at all; they belong on the end of a stick, in a fire. So, I ask, from where springs the conspiracy to inject these odd puffy white concoctions into salads and Jell-O’s, or into hot drinks and desserts? I don’t know who or what is behind this marshmallow promotion plot, but they’re mighty good at what they do.

The exception that proves the rule is the simplest, the most perfect and plain dessert ever concocted. Of course, I speak of the Rice Crispy Treat. The foundational element of this most perfect dessert is the melted marshmallow. Dare I say it is the glue that holds it all together?

But, to be consistent, I would ask that my Rice Crispy Treat be served plain, without the adornment of M&Ms, for consistency sake.

As I said, I like things plain.

And to put it plainly: Best Thanksgiving wishes to all our readers.