Since I started hosting my own Thanksgiving celebrations three years ago, it's become hands-down my favorite holiday. When I first started the tradition, I had absolutely no idea how to host Thanksgiving. I've since learned that it's a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. In the weeks leading up to it, I spend hours combing the internet for recipes, collecting fancy dinnerware, plotting my cooking schedule down to the minute, and painstakingly convincing my friends to ditch their families and instead eat with me in a tiny Brooklyn apartment. The whole thing is exhausting and kind of stressful, and a lot of people probably think I'm crazy, but I love every second of it.

So when I decided to move to Berlin earlier this year, I knew I’d have to find a way to make Thanksgiving happen, despite the fact that it’s an American holiday. I also knew it wouldn't be easy. Aside from the two (American) friends I moved to Germany with six months ago, I don't exactly have a big social circle. You can't host Thanksgiving for just three people, so I would first have to somehow assemble a group big enough to justify cooking a full spread. And then, if I could manage that, I'd also need to track down a bunch of ingredients—American-style marshmallows, cranberries, a turkey, etc.—that aren’t exactly commonplace in Germany.

In the end, I pulled off a pretty convincing American Thanksgiving in Berlin. Honestly, though, it was even more of a challenge than I expected. Here's how it all went down.

Finding people to invite wasn't hard, but getting them to show up was.

I actually put together a pretty respectable guest list, thanks to some help from my friend's German boyfriend and the few acquaintances I've made in the months since moving to Berlin. But as Thanksgiving grew closer, the list grew smaller. I heard a lot of, "Sorry, something came up. I'll catch you next time!" This is pretty common when you’re planning a get-together, be it a birthday party or some other celebration. But...that’s not how Thanksgiving works! You can't just flake. It's not some run-of-the-mill happy hour. It's once a year, a ton of food, and a buttload of preparation—bailing is not an option. But since 80 percent of the people on the guest list had never experienced a Thanksgiving before, they didn't fully grasp the gravitas of the situation. In the end, 14 of the 21 people I invited agreed to come, but only 9 showed up, and they were shocked by the amount of food and effort Thanksgiving entails

There were a couple dishes I had to abandon from the jump.

Like green bean casserole. I'm sure I'll get some flack for saying this, but in my opinion, there's no point in making it without French's Crispy Onions and Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup. Neither of those ingredients are available in Germany, so that dish was off the table.

To my disappointment, Parker House rolls were also a no-show on T-Day. I thought for sure I'd be able to buy some kind of fluffy, buttery dinner roll at the grocery store, but all I could find at Lidl and Aldi—two of the major grocery chains here in Germany—were dense sandwich rolls, or ‘brot’ as they're affectionately called here. I could have made my own from scratch, sure, but I didn't have the time or space for that.

And then there were the dishes that I only managed to make by the skin of my teeth.