Thanksgiving and everything after
Thanksgiving is the one day out of the year that I declare a legal holiday in the kitchen. I throw my diet out the window and eat whatever the hell I want. This year was no exception, and I did not even see an eye of newt or head of kale the whole weekend. Instead, there was succulent turkey, exquisite stuffing, a carrot ring made by yours truly that was quite tasty although it seemed to think it was a mound of sweet potatoes instead…an almost-completely-baked pumpkin pie, and a rather weird mix of pineapple chunks, coconut flakes, marshmallows and pistachio pudding that its maker aptly named ”Shrek Salad.” Some of the family loved it; I preferred my carrot cake with its concomitant identity crisis. Regardless, all attendees got stuffed, as it were, and I still feel I could miss a few meals and not feel hungry. If only I would stop eating.
A personal success I had over the week was in making my own ghee. I have come to prefer the taste of clarified butter over lactosed butter, and cooking it removes the cholesterol. A small jar of ghee costs about $6. Four sticks of butter boil out to the same amount, at about 1/3 the cost. It was deelish, and tasted exactly like the store-bought kind. I love myself.
This Thanksgiving was especially poignant in that Dave was there celebrating with us. It was just a month ago he slipped into a post-operative coma and the nurses were telling his wife to get his affairs in order, as they didn’t think he’d make it through the week, or even the night. But he was supping at the table with the rest of us, and his mother-in-law, Aileen (who I first met at her 80-somethingeth birthday party several years ago, and why I remember meeting her so well is because of her birthday cake, which had read: “Happy Birthday, Alien!” And no one else noticed it until yours truly the eminent proofreader pointed it out. Now there have to be professions that dyslexics can excel in, but cakewriting should not be one of them.)
Anyway, at the end of the meal, as the tryptophan began to take effect, Aileen asked us all to hold hands and join in a prayer of thankfulness. ”And this year we have something to be especially thankful for….” And she didn’t have to say anything else. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house.
I’m off to the airport, a place I seem to be visiting a lot these days. I’m going to pick up another houseguest, my most excellent friend from the Bay Area. She’ll be here through the weekend, and we’ll laugh and play music and talk and make wonderful food…and I have a sneaking suspicion that some of our frivolity might wind up on YouTube.
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