Yes, yes, late to the party *again*.
Ugh, Black Friday shopping -- woke up at *one o'clock in the morning I hate the Universe*. But I had a v. good meal the day before!
Upon showing up at the home of my aunt and uncle, who hosted Thanksgiving this year, I was offered tea or orange juice or milk to drink, and still-warm muffins. Homemade. Not from any mix. With milk chocolate chips and white chocolate chips and pecans.
They were substitutes for the also non-mixed scones, which burnt in the oven.
Several hours later, between stirring and grating and chopping, we munched eight-grain crackers spread with three different kinds of commercial spready-type tapas: roasted red pepper, caramelized onion, and grilled vegetable.
That tapas, and the crackers, were the only things that one or more of us didn't cook.
The main meal was a cabbage-and-cheese casserole with white sauce, cheesy and rich without being nauseatingly so and without ruining the delicate taste of the steamed cabbage; giblet gravy of YUMMINESS and I am totally making my dad tell me how he makes his giblet gravy, though it was almost ruined by forgetting to put the hardboiled eggs in cold water for peeling; redskin parslied potatoes braised in chicken broth with garlic and onion, soaked in cold water until tender and then cooked; kale sauteed in olive oil with garlic and crushed red pepper, which dish is the closest I have ever come to liking kale; squash dressing; cranberry sauce; and the Noble Bird itself... a twenty-one pounder heavyweight.
Also four kinds of pie. Pumpkin, key lime, pecan, and sweet potato with a chocolate crust. All topped, if so desired, with *real* whipped cream.
I dearly love food. LOVE LOVE LOVE.
Upon showing up at the home of my aunt and uncle, who hosted Thanksgiving this year, I was offered tea or orange juice or milk to drink, and still-warm muffins. Homemade. Not from any mix. With milk chocolate chips and white chocolate chips and pecans.
They were substitutes for the also non-mixed scones, which burnt in the oven.
Several hours later, between stirring and grating and chopping, we munched eight-grain crackers spread with three different kinds of commercial spready-type tapas: roasted red pepper, caramelized onion, and grilled vegetable.
That tapas, and the crackers, were the only things that one or more of us didn't cook.
The main meal was a cabbage-and-cheese casserole with white sauce, cheesy and rich without being nauseatingly so and without ruining the delicate taste of the steamed cabbage; giblet gravy of YUMMINESS and I am totally making my dad tell me how he makes his giblet gravy, though it was almost ruined by forgetting to put the hardboiled eggs in cold water for peeling; redskin parslied potatoes braised in chicken broth with garlic and onion, soaked in cold water until tender and then cooked; kale sauteed in olive oil with garlic and crushed red pepper, which dish is the closest I have ever come to liking kale; squash dressing; cranberry sauce; and the Noble Bird itself... a twenty-one pounder heavyweight.
Also four kinds of pie. Pumpkin, key lime, pecan, and sweet potato with a chocolate crust. All topped, if so desired, with *real* whipped cream.
I dearly love food. LOVE LOVE LOVE.