AITAH For Cutting Out My Mom’s Favorite Dish From Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has always been my holiday. Ever since I moved into my first apartment ten years ago, I’ve hosted our family gathering. The menu has evolved over time as I’ve discovered new recipes and dietary needs changed, but this year I made a decision that’s caused unexpected drama: I removed my mother’s favorite sweet potato casserole from the menu. Now she’s not speaking to me, and half the family thinks I’m being petty. So I have to ask: AITAH here?

The Family Tradition Background

Growing up, Thanksgiving meant two things: my mom’s famous sweet potato casserole with marshmallow topping, and the inevitable food coma that followed. It was the dish everyone raved about, though if I’m being honest, I never liked it. Too sweet, too mushy, and that artificial marshmallow texture made me gag as a kid.

When I took over hosting duties, I kept it on the menu out of respect. But here’s the thing – in the past five years, only three people actually eat it: my mom, my aunt Carol, and my nephew who just likes burning marshmallows with a kitchen torch. Last year, we threw away nearly the entire dish.

The Menu Makeover Decision

This September, I sat down to plan what I’m calling “Thanksgiving 2.0” – a refreshed menu focusing on seasonal, from-scratch dishes that reflect how my cooking has evolved. I swapped canned cranberry sauce for a citrus-infused homemade version, replaced boxed stuffing with sourdough and wild mushrooms, and yes – I cut the sweet potato casserole in favor of roasted delicata squash with pepita crunch.

I mentioned the changes in our family group chat three weeks before Thanksgiving. Everyone seemed fine until my mom called me screaming about “erasing family history” and “ingratitude.” She accused me of deliberately targeting her, which isn’t true – I removed three other outdated dishes too!

The Nuclear Family Fallout

My mom didn’t just get mad – she went scorched earth. She called my siblings to complain, posted vaguebooking statuses about “disrespectful children,” and showed up to Thanksgiving with her own damn casserole dish like some kind of carbohydrate vigilante. The worst part? She placed it right in the center of my carefully arranged table, displacing the beautiful squash dish I’d spent hours preparing.

My brother thinks I should have just “humored her,” but here’s why I didn’t: last year when I suggested making a smaller portion, she insisted on the full recipe “for tradition.” Then she spent twenty minutes complaining about wasting food while scraping most of it into the trash. You can’t win!

The Wastefulness Factor

Let’s talk numbers: that casserole costs $18 to make (with organic ingredients she insists on) and takes 90 minutes of oven time during the most oven-crowded day of the year. For three servings. Meanwhile, my roasted squash costs $9, takes 25 minutes, and got completely devoured by even the picky eaters.

I’m not some Thanksgiving Grinch – I kept all the truly essential traditions like Grandpa’s carving ritual and the post-dinner football arguments. But shouldn’t traditions evolve when they stop serving most of the family? Or am I really being an asshole for valuing practicality over nostalgia?

The Emotional Landmine

After everyone left, my dad called to explain this isn’t really about potatoes. Apparently, my mom’s been feeling “phased out” since my wedding last year when I didn’t use her china pattern. There’s also some unresolved tension from when I switched to a caterer instead of letting her cook for my graduation party.

This makes me wonder – is the casserole just the tip of the iceberg? Should I have handled this differently knowing how emotionally charged family food traditions can be? But also… when does catering to one person’s nostalgia become unreasonable for everyone else?

Finding Middle Ground

I’m considering a compromise for Christmas: asking mom to teach me how to make her casserole (something we’ve never done together), but making a quarter recipe as a side dish rather than the main attraction. Maybe the real tradition wasn’t the marshmallow-topped potatoes, but the time we never actually spent cooking together.

Still, part of me resents that I have to negotiate over my own dinner menu in my own home. When you’re the host, shouldn’t you get final say over what’s served? Or does family tradition override that right?

Your Verdict Please

So here’s where I need your honest judgment: Was I the asshole for cutting the casserole without proper discussion? Should traditions be sacred even when they’re wasteful? Or was I within my rights as the host to update the menu? I’m genuinely torn between feeling reasonable and feeling guilty.

Cast your vote in the comments – and while you’re at it, share your own family food feud stories! How do you balance tradition with practicality at your holidays? If you were in my position, would you have kept the casserole to keep the peace, or was it time for it to go?