Remember thanksgiving? It happened, like, half a week ago. Aaaaages ago. Do you even care anymore? Well, whether you do or whether you don't I'm gonna blog about it. Because it was kind of a milestone for me. You see, I am the daughter af a great cook. Someone who had been cooking for her entire life and has honed her craft to an art. And I live 8 minutes away from the culinary brilliance that is my Mother. So why on EARTH would I ever cook my own Thanksgiving Dinner? Or Christmas Dinner? Or Easter Dinner for that matter? My Mom has pretty much nailed turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce. And I love it.
But this year is the year that The Little Dude has Chicken Pox (see previous post) and so we had to miss Thanksgiving Dinner at my Mom and Dad's house. Too many other little kids to potentially infect and even if that were not a concern, he was so SICK on Thanksgiving Sunday. Just laying around, being miserable, having a fever, shaking his little six year old fist at the heavens as he said (repeatedly) "I don't want to have Chicken Pox any more!" - in no condition to go anywhere. Anyhow, my point is that I had to take Thanksgiving Dinner into my own hands. And you know, its not like I don't have any culinary skills at all. So in between painting calamine lotion onto L.D.'s spots and reading endless stories I cooked us a bird. Just a little organic chicken. But I haven't roasted a chicken a while and it was fun to do.
Also, we got out the fine china and the stemware.
The better to toast you with my dear.
Isn't that a fine looking plate? And note the place cards, written with care my the Little Dude.
Everybody had their favourite part of the meal; mine is the stuffing and the cranberry sauce. Both are my Mom's recipes and I will never deviate from them even a smidge because they are perfect the way they are. The Cranberry Sauce has orange zest in it and is so fresh and lovely. And the stuffing is so sage-y and delicious. But the Little Guy here is all about the mashed potatoes and gravy. As is the Little Dude.
This is his thumbs up for the food, as his mouth was too full of mashed potato to say anything at the time. Also, not his general lethargy. This was about as enthusiastic as he got on that particularly unpleasant day in the Chicken Pox cycle. Poor kid. But he did like those mashed potatoes.
Though this is what everyone was waiting for:I did NOT attempt to make the pumpkin pie myself. That was delivered to our quarantine house by my kind niece, courtesy of my Mom. That woman makes the ultimate pumpkin pie.
And it was gobbled up as fast a forks could allow. I said before that the mashed potatoes were the boys' favourite part of the meal, but I stand corrected. They would eat stale bread with cold gravy for dinner and be happy as clams so long as there was Pumpkin Pie for dessert.
And so, in spite of not getting to join the big party with the long table and tons of little kids and noise and fun and multiple pumpkin pies, we still had a pretty good Thanksgiving. And I felt like a grown-up, cooking one of those signifigant, symbolic meals for my own little family. It was nice in spite of the Chicken Pox. And I hope you all had good thanksgivings too, whether they were little or big, in good health or bad. It can go either way, but I hope you managed some pie and some celebration whatever the circumstances.
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