So, Thanksgiving approaches, and for the average American expat the wheels begin turning at least two weeks ahead.

“Where? Who? How?”

A fellow journalist solved the “where” — the large, 60th-floor apartment of an American she knows, a guy in his early 30s who works as a consultant (apparently quite a successful one) here in Abu Dhabi.

The “who” was a blend of (mostly) Yanks who work at The National … and youngish, seemingly upwardly mobile compatriots with multinational corporations, friends of the host, mostly Americans but some spouses from other countries.

The “how” was mostly handled by Leah and her journalist friend, who between them supplied a turkey, two kinds of stuffing, lots of gravy, about 10 pounds of mashed potatoes, a pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce and cranberry relish, brie, nuts, olives … and the host provided a second turkey, from the Marco Pierre White restaurant at the Fairmont Hotel, as well as four helpers to set the table and to clean up.

The guests were very bright and well-turned-out, gregarious, informed — the sort of Yanks you tend to see in overseas postings. (One of them had worked several years with the State Department.) The conversation was lively and eclectic; a Spaniard (half Basque, half Catalan) talked about Spanish colonialism; others discussed local pick-up basketball in Abu Dhabi; surfing possibilities in Dubai (poor); and whether Californians can be identified by an accent.

Then came the dinner, and the ingredients were outlined above. It was very close to the Stateside experience — as has been the case for our four previous Thanksgivings since we left the U.S. (A tip: Start looking for stuffing mix early or prepare to make your own.)

(OK, let’s recap the previous four years. In 2012, we were the guests of an American woman and National colleague who lives in one of the mainland suburbs of Abu Dhabi. In 2011, we put on a dinner at an American’s apartment in Paris. In 2010, we were friends of a friend at a large gathering of Yanks mostly in family groups in another expansive Abu Dhabi suburb with a very big lawn. And in 2009, barely a month after arriving in the UAE, we provided the food and the little American woman who was key to us getting to Abu Dhabi in the first place, provided the venue.)

Ultimately, the crowd was 18, which included two Arabs and a Turk who were curious enough about the whole thing to have come over. It was nice to see that the large amount of food prepared was nearly all consumed.

And, in one of those traditions you love or you hate, someone started the “what are you thankful for?” testimonies, and nearly all the Yanks took part — but we spared the non-Americans, pretty much. It was a bit maudlin; most people expressed variations on the “nice to be among Americans on this holiday” theme. But no one broke into tears.

Perhaps the most memorable aspect of the whole event was the view, as partly conveyed in the photo, above.

Sixty floors up provides quite a good look at the west end of Abu Dhabi island, and our host’s apartment provides views to the north as well as west (above). Emirates Palace is just below, and the new presidential palace, under construction, is a huge mass just beyond.

But, now that I reconsider, maybe the view wasn’t the most memorable aspect of the event. That would be the conversation and the food, and the recollection of similar events with loved ones.

I didn’t see anyone leave the table to stare out the window.