We’re Having Hodag Tonight

By Leah Matchett on November 24, 2014

One of the best things about going home for the holidays is the food. Especially around Thanksgiving, a lot of the food we eat comes with stories. Every family has these different traditions associated with the holidays, and some are more unique than others.

I’m going to tell you a story that has, over time become a bit like legend for my family. And by the end I’ll hopefully explain why this:

means home to me.

Years and years ago, before my parents were married, they were backpacking in the woods of Wisconsin. Not sure why you’d want to go hiking in Wisconsin, but there they were. They came suddenly upon a town that seemed to be in the middle of some kind of festival. Banners were strung up over town proudly declaring the annual Hodag festival.

My dad asked a local shop owner what a Hodag was, and this is the story he told:

Years and years ago several students home on vacation got bored and did what any bored college students would do- decided to sew together dead animal carcasses. They began to sneakily let their creation be seen by people in the town, who thought a new kind of animal had appeared. Eventually, National Geographic was called in to photograph the elusive and beautiful “Hodag” as citizens had begun to call it.

Within about five minutes of National Geographic’s arrival, they debunked the whole thing, and the students apologized to the community (no doubt really quite impressed with themselves).

The people of the town, although a bit chagrinned, thought the whole thing was hilarious, and decided to host an annual festival every year to commemorate the event. Even the local school’s mascot is the Hodag.

So fast forward 20 some years and adorable 6-year-old me is bugging my dad on Thanksgiving day.

“What’re we having for dinner? What’re we having for dinner?”

My dad, no doubt frusterated in spite of my adorableness answers, “We’re having Hodag.”

So when dinner came, there was the hodag on the table- turkey body, crab legs, crab claws and a lobster tail. To a 6-year-old kid: magic.

Now that I’m 20, it may not be as magical, but it’s certainly home.

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