My Home, My People, My Pleasure
We had the annual day of American overeating at The House of Cats and (klutzy) Women here last week. And I don't think any of us overate, although several of us did overcook, as per usual.
La Cyn was off to La Sister's house with La Mom the day before, and I'd begged, literally begged to have the day off for Thanksgiving. It really was kind of the first real holiday of my own since my return from Saigon, as last year at this time I was having a grand time at a posh and very lovely wedding, gallivanting through London, Glasgow, and Edinburgh on a mini tour. And Giftmas I spent alone, and caught a train up to My Hometown the day after to spend the day with seriouspenguin, the Penguin Consort, and the following day with My Awesome Dad and the Pocket Doctor. Since I'd become so accustomed to hosting the Lost Souls Holidays in the latter years in My Hometown, and all the years in Seattle, this really was my first homecoming holiday.
So I got dibs on seriouspenguin, the Penguin Consort, ghostpoetical, and pescana this year for Thanksgiving. It didn't seem like I had much to do, but pescana said that I was working all day until the moment I sat down to dinner. It didn't seem like it, because of course, it never really seems like work when you're cooking, roasting, and baking for people you love.
I got up at stupid o'clock, as I always do, and immediately started the day's bread and a batch of saffron rolls. I'd been infusing milk with saffron for over 12 hours, so I had a gorgeous, golden, fragrant measure of milk for the saffron rolls. I didn't exactly plan stuff out other than to make a list of things that had to be done, but not any times or timing for them. Once I got the all day rhythm of rising and falling started, I popped in to work quickly and picked up a couple of odds and ends that were missing from our ingredients list, and came home to start my turkey prep. Did I mention that I procured a lovely 10.82lb turkey for the day? It was just the right size, free range, free of all additives, injections, et. al. When I opened the bag, I was well pleased to note that it had a natural skin tone, unlike the yellow fowl you often get in the regular grocer's. I have mentioned that I still love my butcher, right? Even though I work for his direct competitor now, he's still my go to guy for most things.
The Phooka, of course, was in quite an agitated state, quite certain that the giant fowl was destined to be his, all his! He was constantly underfoot until all of his yowling and begging tired him out enough that he collapsed on my bed for a few hours of frequently interrupted sleep as I began the each stage of baking.
Turkey prep went like a dream. I had decided to butterfly my turkey, following no recipe but going by feel for how I usually do a chicken, I laid it on a bed of roughly chopped onions, celery, carrots, and a full head of garlic (all of which had been picked up the day before by the lovely and amazing pescana), I made pescana pop out to the deck to grab the last good leaves of sage and several twigs of rosemary. I laid the sage on top of the veg, poured a healthy dose of wine over it all, then dropped the turkey on top. After a nice under the skin butter and rosemary massage for the bird, I covered it in olive oil, salt, and pepper, then trucked the whole thing down to pescana's oven with a stick of butter and instructions on temp and when to start it all roasting.
Back upstairs, I finally took a shower, then made my pumpkin pie and while that was cooking, I started on my annual Arguing With Gordon Ramsay about tart crust for his autumnal fruit tart. The recipe calls for Chinese Five Spices, which I don't have, but the googles, they do provide, and I, of course had all the spices necessary to grind up a good approximation of same. I must say the apples, pears, and blackberries (the latter leftover from pescana's summer stash) came out beautifully.
Meanwhile, I was getting text updates every other minute or so from ghostpoetical on their progress down from My Hometown, which I finally cut off with, "I am TRYING to bake here."
When seriouspenguin, the Penguin Consort, ghostpoetical arrived, and the renovated bathroom duly admired, La Cyn's genius at cubbyholes extolled, catses all loved up, and hugs and kiss-kisses exchanged, I set the Penguin Consort to work peeling taters. pescana, seriouspenguin, and I set work killing off the first bottle of wine and unpacking the many many food items she'd brought down, and ghostpoetical cut up and served sausage, crackers, and cheese for our nibbling appetizers.
The timing was almost just right. We had to wait a bit for the bread to finish baking, but fortunately, with two kitchens, pescana was able to make the dressing (and luckily I remembered I had a wee bit of leftover vegetable stock way back in the freezer for the meat-free dressing she'd made for seriouspenguin) and gravy and everything got to the table at nearly the same time.
The Unveiling of the Turkey
Taken with ghostpoetical's magic iphone because of COURSE I only noticed that my camera batteries were dead an hour before dinner. So this is the only picture I have of the day until seriouspenguin sends me copies of hers.
It turned out exactly as I expected/wanted it to. The Penguin Consort graciously did the carving (and all the washing up afterward) and we all sat down to table to enjoy a well-deserved meal and the conversations you have only as you do with the family you choose to be part of. That's the best part of the holiday, sitting back and enjoying your people in their comfort and yours.
It mystifies me how some people just don't get why I find hosting SO much less stressful and MORE pleasurable than going off to someone else's house.
I am everso grateful for all the help and coordination efforts of my confederates; I truly could not have done it without you. Thank you all for making my first real home for the holidays feel like home again -- let's do it again next year!
La Cyn was off to La Sister's house with La Mom the day before, and I'd begged, literally begged to have the day off for Thanksgiving. It really was kind of the first real holiday of my own since my return from Saigon, as last year at this time I was having a grand time at a posh and very lovely wedding, gallivanting through London, Glasgow, and Edinburgh on a mini tour. And Giftmas I spent alone, and caught a train up to My Hometown the day after to spend the day with seriouspenguin, the Penguin Consort, and the following day with My Awesome Dad and the Pocket Doctor. Since I'd become so accustomed to hosting the Lost Souls Holidays in the latter years in My Hometown, and all the years in Seattle, this really was my first homecoming holiday.
So I got dibs on seriouspenguin, the Penguin Consort, ghostpoetical, and pescana this year for Thanksgiving. It didn't seem like I had much to do, but pescana said that I was working all day until the moment I sat down to dinner. It didn't seem like it, because of course, it never really seems like work when you're cooking, roasting, and baking for people you love.
I got up at stupid o'clock, as I always do, and immediately started the day's bread and a batch of saffron rolls. I'd been infusing milk with saffron for over 12 hours, so I had a gorgeous, golden, fragrant measure of milk for the saffron rolls. I didn't exactly plan stuff out other than to make a list of things that had to be done, but not any times or timing for them. Once I got the all day rhythm of rising and falling started, I popped in to work quickly and picked up a couple of odds and ends that were missing from our ingredients list, and came home to start my turkey prep. Did I mention that I procured a lovely 10.82lb turkey for the day? It was just the right size, free range, free of all additives, injections, et. al. When I opened the bag, I was well pleased to note that it had a natural skin tone, unlike the yellow fowl you often get in the regular grocer's. I have mentioned that I still love my butcher, right? Even though I work for his direct competitor now, he's still my go to guy for most things.
The Phooka, of course, was in quite an agitated state, quite certain that the giant fowl was destined to be his, all his! He was constantly underfoot until all of his yowling and begging tired him out enough that he collapsed on my bed for a few hours of frequently interrupted sleep as I began the each stage of baking.
Turkey prep went like a dream. I had decided to butterfly my turkey, following no recipe but going by feel for how I usually do a chicken, I laid it on a bed of roughly chopped onions, celery, carrots, and a full head of garlic (all of which had been picked up the day before by the lovely and amazing pescana), I made pescana pop out to the deck to grab the last good leaves of sage and several twigs of rosemary. I laid the sage on top of the veg, poured a healthy dose of wine over it all, then dropped the turkey on top. After a nice under the skin butter and rosemary massage for the bird, I covered it in olive oil, salt, and pepper, then trucked the whole thing down to pescana's oven with a stick of butter and instructions on temp and when to start it all roasting.
Back upstairs, I finally took a shower, then made my pumpkin pie and while that was cooking, I started on my annual Arguing With Gordon Ramsay about tart crust for his autumnal fruit tart. The recipe calls for Chinese Five Spices, which I don't have, but the googles, they do provide, and I, of course had all the spices necessary to grind up a good approximation of same. I must say the apples, pears, and blackberries (the latter leftover from pescana's summer stash) came out beautifully.
Meanwhile, I was getting text updates every other minute or so from ghostpoetical on their progress down from My Hometown, which I finally cut off with, "I am TRYING to bake here."
When seriouspenguin, the Penguin Consort, ghostpoetical arrived, and the renovated bathroom duly admired, La Cyn's genius at cubbyholes extolled, catses all loved up, and hugs and kiss-kisses exchanged, I set the Penguin Consort to work peeling taters. pescana, seriouspenguin, and I set work killing off the first bottle of wine and unpacking the many many food items she'd brought down, and ghostpoetical cut up and served sausage, crackers, and cheese for our nibbling appetizers.
The timing was almost just right. We had to wait a bit for the bread to finish baking, but fortunately, with two kitchens, pescana was able to make the dressing (and luckily I remembered I had a wee bit of leftover vegetable stock way back in the freezer for the meat-free dressing she'd made for seriouspenguin) and gravy and everything got to the table at nearly the same time.
The Unveiling of the Turkey
Taken with ghostpoetical's magic iphone because of COURSE I only noticed that my camera batteries were dead an hour before dinner. So this is the only picture I have of the day until seriouspenguin sends me copies of hers.
It turned out exactly as I expected/wanted it to. The Penguin Consort graciously did the carving (and all the washing up afterward) and we all sat down to table to enjoy a well-deserved meal and the conversations you have only as you do with the family you choose to be part of. That's the best part of the holiday, sitting back and enjoying your people in their comfort and yours.
It mystifies me how some people just don't get why I find hosting SO much less stressful and MORE pleasurable than going off to someone else's house.
I am everso grateful for all the help and coordination efforts of my confederates; I truly could not have done it without you. Thank you all for making my first real home for the holidays feel like home again -- let's do it again next year!