In a three-bedroom apartment in State College Pa., a pan of creamy green bean casserole and a pumpkin pie sat on the faux marble breakfast bar, both dishes still untouched. The aroma of couscous simmering in a spicy, tomato-based broth rose from the pan and wafted through the kitchen. Past the oven — where a large, spice rubbed turkey was roasting — and into the living room, where a Christmas-themed movie played on HBO. Thirteen-year-old Semi sat crossed-legged on the carpet, eyes glued to the TV set as she recited movie lines from memory. Ade, her older sister and my college roommate, shook her head endearingly, then bustled back into the kitchen to check on the turkey while fending off her little brother, Aziz, who declared he was hungry; when could he eat Thanksgiving dinner?