Every other holiday is just a time-passer until Thanksgiving. They're mostly pagan holidays, anyways. Ahh, but Thanksgiving. The crowning achievement of America. The single greatest holiday this blue, wretched globe sustains. The food. The loneliness. The creepy neighbors trying to set their house on fire. The
The turkey. My favorite part is when we stab it with the probe thermometer (it makes you feel like such a superior species). The simple ease of it. The knowledge that you outsmarted that damned bird and will soon be feasting on its flesh without risk of food-borne illness. Heh heh heh.
Last year, my Dad was in jail awaiting sentencing, so we had to buy a premade meal (we weren't even gonna celebrate, but decided to). He actually went to jail less than a week before Thanksgiving. It's so weird- you get a full-sized turkey, but the sides are for a seemingly smaller bird. I mean...wow, so few mashed potatoes. Then everything has sage strewn throughout it. Eeyuck. I did get to decide I want to make marshmallow sweet yam thingers, though. So not a total loss.
When he was released in March (he violated probation 12 years ago and has been on the run ever since; that is, they hadn't found him; that is, he wasn't "actively" running), I stayed up all night making a Thanksgiving-styled dinner, and I even taped the making of it. So many things went wrong, it isn't even funny. Weird thing is, I can make all that stuff easily, but jumbled together...it creates problems. I despise mashed potatoes with a heated, frenzied passion anyways. The cheapest, most disturbingly antagonistically fiendish use of potatoes I know of.
Regardless of my mashed hatred, I failed miserably. It was one of the worst moments of my life. The only good part was that my Dad was home. I remember he called me in the middle of the night (I was up cooking). "Hey, they just let me out." "OK, I'll wake Mom up."
Mom went and picked him up, and when they got home, I had the dinner all set out. Oh, the adventures we had whilst he was in jail. He was on work furlough (leave jail to work, then go back at night), so we would sometimes combine trips to a supposed doctor or something to ferry him back to jail.
Once, I even made a tailgate party. Porkchops, chinese fried rice...a few more things, I forget. I kept it hot in a crock pot with burning hot bricks. Anyway, maybe my Mom remembers. It was great. They make you eat peanut butter and moldy bread in there, and it was a Friday (they have to stay in on weekends), and he said he didn't eat anything else that weekend. One guy walked up, looked at the food and said, "right on."
The guards, needless to say, would have shot us all had they known. Rofl. We were having a tailgate party in the jail parking lot!
Lol...anyway...this year will be different. My Dad won't be in jail, and my Mom will hopefully be cooking. She does a better job than me, but of course, I had to do it all by myself with absolutely no moral support. Plus she's older. And she's uh, stupid.
Yeah. And we usually help with some dishes, especially the stuffing. Did I mention I love stuffing? Not the kind that's baked in the bird, but the kind cooked on the stovetop. And I never add sage. I make homemade Jew food Challah bread and let it dry out for a few days (or in the oven)...it's the eggs, it makes a rich stuffing base. Then you just add stock and, well...stock+Jew food Challah bread is by itself a winning combination.
But enough about Thanksgiving for now. There's 6 more days to recount stories. 11:59 PM. Goodnight.
2 comments:
OH yeah. Thanksgiving. I'm thankful that I'm sick today because hopefully I will be well and full of energy for cooking Thanksgiving dinner! Do you still have that one magazine with the dessert I wanted to make that looked so delicious!?
Yes, I think. I hope. I didn't throw it out, at least...
Yeah.
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