Thanksgiving came and went here in my new little Oakland pad. We were so busy looking up recipes and making a huge turkey that we didn’t realize we had cooked for over fifteen people. There were only four in attendance: my boyfriend, my sister, and my boo’s friend from Albany. We chowed down to some greens, ham, turkey, brussels sprouts with bacon and apples, Russian salad, mashed potatoes with white mushroom and hamburger gravy, sweet yams with marshmallows, biscuits, homemade cranberry sauce, and a salad to help us digest the heavy stuff. We downed all of that with beer, red wine, and Italian soda.
Although the kitchen was in a fury for most of the day, all I kept thinking was — wow, I can cook some pretty good stuff! Reader, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of food I was able to prepare. Makes me hopeful for my future, you know, in case I have granola babies and I have to start making pies someday.
Anyways, I have a lot to be thankful for. (1) My sister who flew in from LA to hang, (2) my boyfriend who even in the darkest hours in the kitchen kept his cool and managed to make some delicious sides, (3) our guest who brought a huge ham and delicious greens, (4) my mother who called all day to make sure I didn’t mess up (but I did mess up and life sucked for a little bit but now I’m over it because I’m so flipping full). And finally for the love I feel flows through me.
Inspiration of the Day:
Quick little story. Our turkey container was too small for the bird, and it ended up getting a hole in the bottom of the bin…which I didn’t notice until just thirty minutes ago. Anyways, all day we found grease just spilling here and there. We were dumbfounded, where the heck is all this grease coming from? During the halfway point of our turkey baking I look over at the oven and it spews out this orange red Peruvian sauce at the bottom of the oven doors. I imagine blood pulsing from the ovens doors, a pristine white being stained and tarnished with guilt –possibly by a character’s bad choice to poison her mother in laws meal and realizing it could be the end of her freedom. Or something like that — oy, I don’t know. So many thoughts ran through my mind as I saw the grease spill.
What inspired you on this TURKEY DAY CELEBRATION? Any good arguments?
PS – I call it Turkey Day because I recognize that this is also Indigenous People’s Day. One love!