As we gather with friends and family to feast on food and give thanks, here is a round-up of what pies, appetizers, side dishes and more each zodiac sign brings — or doesn’t bring — to the table.
Scorched Earth turkey
The firestarter of the zodiac insists on deep-frying the turkey. Predictably, they fail to read the instructions or follow safety protocol.
Bad news: The house is engulfed in flames.
Good news: The bone structure of the average Aries is solid enough to support an absence of eyebrows.
Little known fact: Inside the chest of every Taurus beats not a heart but a Yukon Gold potato. They’ll take your casseroles, your twice-baked, your mashed and your scalloped. Never the sort to let gluttony stand in the way of glamour, bulls will spend Thanksgiving stacking the starch from the comfort of a velvet tracksuit.
Gemini forgot to bring the side dish they either burned or never planned to make, so they’re bringing nothing but hot takes, unsolicited opinions, tangents, half-truths and divorce predictions to the table this year.
Feelings are hard, bro, and feelings plus family plus the crushing weight of ancestral trauma equals too heavy a burden for the crab folk to bear without a crutch. Practitioners of discreet but extensive self-care, you’ll find them in the upstairs bathtub, hotboxing and ugly-crying.
Still sore that their Mom didn’t read their blog in high school, Leo records dinner table conversation with plans to turn the dramatics and infighting into a one-person off-Broadway play — starring, no drum roll necessary, themselves.
Validation or vengeance? Why choose?
Tupperware, but they want it back
Virgo insists on hosting because they know full well no one else is capable. They pretend to have fun while secretly fantasizing about the moment everyone leaves and they can clean the kitchen and watch terrible reality television in blessed, solitary peace.
Ever-seeking to smooth things over or at the very least cover them up when company is coming, Libra hopes the expansive and inexplicable velvet cornucopia centerpiece and the intricate embroidery of the tablecloth will distract from the plain fact that they are hanging on by a thread.
As the investigator, and unexpected moral compass of the zodiac, Scorpio conscientiously objects to celebrating a holiday that is, in essence, a pumpkin-flavored commemoration of colonial genocide.
Maybe if we could all get a little weird, we could all get along: That is the guiding principle of the terminally optimistic Sagittarian, who shows up half-drunk with a good-looking stranger on their arm and a deck of playing cards in their pocket.
Macaroni and cheese
Cap brings a pan of macaroni and cheese, as it is cost-effective, utilitarian and refuses to pander to those weak enough to have food allergies. The dairy-bound dish is emblematic of the sign itself — perpetually charged with keeping it all together.
Something terrible with lentils
Galvanized by a surrealist film and Kim Kardashian’s Instagram Stories, the uncontested cult leader of the zodiac declares that meat is murder and shames/shades anyone who reaches for a drumstick or looks longingly at the spiral ham.
Pisces shows up late to Friendsgiving — and in yesterday’s clothes. They smile and bop around the kitchen, asking if anyone needs help and with zero intention of providing it. They shelve the boxed wine they brought and open something expensive that they didn’t.
Astrologer Reda Wigle researches and irreverently reports back on planetary configurations and their effect on each zodiac sign. Her horoscopes integrate history, poetry, pop culture and personal experience. She is also an accomplished writer who has profiled a variety of artists and performers, as well as extensively chronicled her experiences while traveling. Among the many intriguing topics she has tackled are cemetery etiquette, her love for dive bars, Cuban Airbnbs, a “girls guide” to strip clubs and the “weirdest” foods available abroad.