Thanksgiving. Not one of my favorite holidays. I understand why we have it: Pilgrims, religious prosecution, new world, breaking bread with native Americans, giving thanks. I can be just as thankful with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a paper towel as I can with turkey, four vegetables, two kinds of potatos, gravy, cranberry sauce, pies and rolls served on china and crystal. And as far as breaking bread with native Americans goes...well, we all know how that eventually ended. Greeks bearing gifts, Pilgrims serving turkeys, same thing.
On a brighter note, I did have a lot of fun with the pre-preparing this week. Food + exhaustion + a new camera = a whole lot of silliness.
I had to go to four stores to find the leeks. Is there a leek shortage that no one know about? I think they are beautiful vegetables...can you tell?
The chestnuts were staging an uprising so I took preemptive measures; I cooked them.
The pumpkin was so hard that I could only get the knife in it the one time and had to wait until Michael got home to cut it open.
Bouquet Garni swinging from it's rope.
Brussels sprouts - Lizzy loves 'em.
If a turkey gets cold, are they still called goosebumps?
My darling Michael took the red-eye from L.A., dropped his bags by the front door at 7:30am and went staight to the kitchen to prepare his delectable pies. That's my guy!
