Noah's school was thoughtful enough to provide a timely craft this week, in the form of this tasteful, understated centerpiece:
I feel like it's either going to take a candy-colored shit on the table or hold us up at gunpoint for some stuffing.
Have I told you that Thanksgiving is pretty much my favorite holiday ever? While it used to be the thing I barely tolerated as a kid, a stupid holiday with no presents or candy, it's now BY FAR the best day of the year. I spend the day awash in butter and heavy cream and carbohydrates and the first bottle of wine gets opened at 11:30 in the morning because I need to "deglaze" a "pan." Plus, not to brag or anything, I make a fucking amazing turkey. The secret is basting with my secret basting baste of awesome every 10-15 minutes or so, and really the only hard part about that is not drinking all the melted butter directly. Some is okay. I mean, it is a special occasion.
Also on the menu this year: roasted elephant garlic with French baguette, assorted fancy cheeses, Jason's mushroom, leek and challah bread stuffing that is pretty much the reason I married him, mashed sweet potatoes with orange, a broccoli and cauliflower gratin that does absolutely UNSPEAKABLE things to the vegetables, and some kind of apple crumb-top pie that somehow managed to survive a full 12 hours last year before we all ate the rest of it for breakfast the next morning.
(I should probably clarify that yeah, it's totally just the two of us, plus the kids. If we are lucky, Noah might eat the crunchy burned bits off the edge of some stuffing, although I worry that Ezra might SERIOUSLY cramp our style and put quite a dent in our coveted stash of delicious leftovers.)
Anyway. I am jazzed. I am antsy. I keep going to the basement to coo at our very-recently-murdered turkey and out to the garden to talk shit to the heads of cauliflower. YOUR HOURS ARE NUMBERED, BITCHES. IMMA GONNA FUCK YOU UP WITH SO MUCH CHEESE YOU'RA GONNA THINK YOU CAME FROM A COW.
(I wonder why none of the neighbors asked us about our plans for the holidays? Hmm.)
The Crazy-Eyed Peacock Octo-Turkey Bandit hopes you have a wonderful Thanksgiving! I do too, but, you know. Stay away from my house. I have no food for you. All for me. NOM NOM NOM, etc.