Good Morning.
I have a friend in another state who recently informed me that he's hosting Thanksgiving for fifteen people this year. Knowing him, I thought, wow, he'll probably try to do the whole thing by himself so I e-mailed him and told him that he really needed to assign people various food items so the only things he had to worry about were the turkey, the stuffing, and maybe the potatoes. I also shared some tips on how to make a good cheater gravy.
Within an hour I heard back from him and was quickly reminded that the guy likes really sexy food and the group he hangs out with apparently does too. It was sacrilegious, he said, to cheat on gravy and he uses white wine in his. He was assigning things, he reported, but not the things I'd assign. The first items I'd unload would be the pies, but he plans to make his, and I'll bet they're not plain old pumpkin and apple. He'll probably do a pumpkin chiffon and an apple galette. I'd also get someone to do the cranberry sauce, but he wants to fix up his special cranberries with red wine. I dump them in a pot with some sugar and water and maybe a bit of orange zest if I'm feeling particularly inspired. I'd be willing to do the mashed potatoes but he has farmed that one out and I'll bet those mashed will be garlic mashed or blue cheese mashed or some other kind of mashed I've never heard of. He has also delegated the stuffing to someone who uses a recipe from Bon Appetit. I got mine fifty years ago from Good Housekeeping. Another member of the group is bringing a vegetable dish and I'm guessing that it's more likely to be a cauliflower and chestnut souffle than the green bean casserole. I'm hoping he's popping the rolls out of a can rather than making his own croissants, but nothing would surprise me. He did say that his grandmother's famous Watergate Salad, circa 1975, is on the menu and described it as mint green with little marshmallows. I like this granny. Every respectable Thanksgiving should have at least one thing with marshmallows.
The chef used the term tablescape which means he's actually planning what he does with his table. I throw a cloth on mine, polish the silver, and put some stuff in a container for a centerpiece. The stuff is brown and woodsy-looking but I really don't know what it is. Woodsy. He will likely have a selection of lovely fall vegetables embellished with magnolia leaves. If he does
his dinner in courses with a scoop of sorbet between them, I'm calling the Food Network to see if he can get his own show.
Here's the deal: I love the departures from the tried-and-true simple and perhaps a bit stale. I'm doing departures, too, just not with food. I'm already decorating for Christmas because I'm hopelessly depressed about several matters including the fact that my candidate for governor lost and my favorite sweater has a hole in it. I've aged ten years in the past week and the dog looks at me and immediately curls up by the front door with her back to me. In any case, my tree is up and I will turn on the lights for the first time tonight. I would have done it sooner but I was worried the neighbors would think I'm a little cuckoo. Imagine such a thing.
Best regards,
Elisabeth
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