Thursday 27 November
There were nineteen of us gathered
for the family Thanksgiving dinner, so we needed two 13-pound turkeys. They'd been barded in bacon and were bag-roasting
since early morning.
In the meantime, Becky had taken
Holt's pan of plain (not slutty) cornbread, and run up a batch of sausage
stuffing.
Over the rest of the day, she
and her minions (the rest of us) produced a panful of sweet potatoes with brown
sugar streusel on top; a pot of mashed potato, to be served plain (vegan) or
with turkey gravy; Holt's olive-oil-sautéed brussels sprouts with vegetable broth
and lemon peel, finished with pink Himalayan salt and garlic oil (also
vegan-friendly); cooked cranberry sauce, and raw cranberry-orange relish.
Our selection of apple ciders was imported
from Cincinnati Ohio, and there was little standing between us and a food coma.
After a few hours, when we woke
up, pies had appeared: homemade pecan and pumpkin, as well as store-bought
apple and cherry, with whipped cream. Back
into the food coma.
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