Mark's post on Turkey Day struck a chord. The house specialties(this and Memorial Day being the days my mother gets in the family rotation, the Fourth, and Labor Day, and sometimes Christmas in other relative's hands.) :
Turkey, with just a small bit of ham available for the couple of people who don't eat turkey. Cooked in the traditional way, nothing unusual there. Bread stuffing, cooked in bird and outside (yeah, I know, Mr. President). No deep fry, no turducken. (the turducken always looked like something you'd eat if Norman Rockwell and H. R. Giger had Thanksgiving together) The turkey is cooked nicely, unlike my aunt, who once suggested that when the little pop-up thing goes off, it has another three hours to go.
Mashed potatoes, lots of potatoes. Potatoes are good. If you can set me up with potatoes and stuffing, and gravy, you could probably get me to pass on the bird. (Incidentally, the most amusing moment I've ever gotten out of Iron Chef has to be seeing the Turkey battle with the explanation of gravy as one of the great innovations of American cuisine. Very strange.) I'm less enamored of the candied sweet potatoes which do show up. I think they smell better than they taste, which always leads to disappointment.
Cranberries. No can involved. Take cranberries, apples, orange peel and a meat grinder. Mix into unset jello, form a ring. Good stuff.
Vegetation. Mostly a tip to the family's tie to the Pennsylvania Dutch, we usually end up with one or two vegetables in cream and butter (never was big on that add on, it only made lima beans look stranger). Also as the Pennsylvania Dutch are supposedly masters of pickling (possibly the world's most ridiculous ethnic slur or something), we get the full compliment of pickles, olives, pickled green beans, etc.
Dessert. Want some pie? I fully expect Weebil and Bob to appear at my parents' for dessert. Pumpkin, Apple, Black Raspberry, of which I usually grab the first two, and retire back to my chair to bloat and collapse.

Nothing real special, except for the head count (last year 22). But as always it's not the food, it's the people reminding us exactly why we only see them once a year. More on that later.