I’ll Have Thanksgiving When I Want to Have Thanksgiving

daphne on November 12, 2009

The thing about holidays is that there are billions of things that can make one cranky.  Jacked-up airline prices and crowded airports; insanity at the market and children who insist on dallying with strep throat.  Not to mention the pressure, the crowds, and all those random crazy hungry people who insist they are related to you.

You can’t do much about the crazies other than learn to love ’em.  But the rest of it can be avoided if you do what I do: schedule Thanksgiving for whenever the heck it works for you.  Trust me, if you roast it, they will come.  For us, Thanksgiving was this past weekend.

I cooked this sumptuous meal–

Pictured: smattering of little people who would consume the turkey.

Not pictured: the actual turkey.

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Thing is,  I can’t figure out how those fancy-shmancy bloggies do it. I don’t know how they manage to bring home the bacon, fry it up with grease splattering everywhere and photograph it at the same time.  I get the camera into the kitchen, but when I’m up to my elbows in turkey butt with onion-induced tears streaming down my face I always forget to reach for it.

It’s probably a good thing.  Should I happen to remember one day I have no doubt that said camera would land itself right up in there with the onions and the apples and that would be no good. No good at all.

Posterity will have to wait.

Trust me when I tell you that the turkey was golden and gorgeous.  I started out with a deep muscle rub-down, a nice buttery-sage-cider massage which relaxed him enough to climb into that oven and do his job.

Mmmm, check out this golden roasted turkey–

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If by golden roasted turkey I mean a haggard bunch of related turkeys posed on the front stairs.  Which I do.

This year for faux-Thanksgiving I took an atypical laissez-faire approach towards dessert.  Not eating it, of course, but making it.  I handed that duty off to my sister, who made a yummy pumpkin cheesecake, and my brother, who under pressure and duress from the wise woman-folk in his life agreed to make the cool, free-form apple pie we found in our new Pioneer Woman cookbook.

Baby brother delivered. Check out his results.  Err, I mean, Look! It’s Grandma and Grandpa with some of the kiddies at the park.

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Hang on a second.  With someone else bellying up to the old oven, I was freed up to snap some real live food pictures–

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Viewing this lovely picture one might think that the most enjoyable part about forcing a brother to bake a pie would be eating it.  But that wasn’t so.

The best part of this pie was the post-game debriefing provided by his supportive family. We lovingly went through every step of his process to point out where he went wrong and what he could have done better.  It was very kind of us, and although he bravely declined my offer of a pad and pencil for note taking,  I know my brother was thankful for the feedback.

At least on the inside.  And because my heart is just that big, I will give him another chance to redeem himself.  Aren’t big sisters the best?

And now, with our holiday feasting behind us, let me be the first to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.  I know, I know it’s early. But that’s the way I roll. Oftentimes I find myself ahead of the curve.

Setting the pace.

Dancing on the cutting edge.

But it’s all to your advantage dear reader.  I may completely rearrange the calendar to meet my needs, but that does not mean I’m selfish.  Just for you, you poor souls for whom the pressures of Thanksgiving still loom large on the horizon, I offer you this–an already planned, tried and true Thanksgiving menu–

My Thanksgiving Menu: The Recipes

Bon Appetit!

Cranberry Orange and Apple Relish

daphne on November 12, 2009

Cranberry sauce in a can is gross.  I don’t care what you’re used to, it is time to grow up and make your own.  There are many reasons–

  1. Kids love the cool popping sounds that the berries make as they explode juice all over the stove top
  2. It’s better, that’s why
  3. All the cool kids are doing it.

Glad you’re on board.  Here’s how it’s done:

  • 1 orange
  • 3/4 cup sugar
  • 1/4 cup port
  • 1 12oz bag of cranberries (not dried)
  • 1 apple, finely chopped

Grate the zest and squeeze the juice from the orange into a medium sized pot.

Add the port.

Over medium heat, dissolve the sugar in the orange juice and port.

Stir in cranberries, zest and apple.  Cook uncovered for 8-10 minutes, or until the popping has stopped and the mixture becomes thick.

Remove 1/2 the mixture and blend it until it forms a smooth jelly.  Add back into the pot.

C hill for about an hour, and serve cool or at room temperature.

Cheater’s Gravy (Make-It-Ahead)

daphne on November 12, 2009

I cheat.  Not only do I make my gravy ahead of time but I make my turkey gravy from chicken parts.  Which leaves you with two choices: You can go out and slander my name all over this turkey lovin’ country, or you can do what I do: cheat.

Welcome aboard.  Here’s how it’s done.

What you’ll need:

  • 1 package of chicken parts (4-6 wings or thighs or drumsticks)
  • 2 medium onions
  • 2 Tbls butter, optional
  • 1/4 cup apple cider, optional
  • 4-6 cups chicken stock
  • Pepper — a couple teaspoons or to taste
  • 3-4 Tbls Sage
  • 2-4 Tbls flour or more

Heat oven to 400.

Put wings in a single layer in a roasting pan. Scatter chopped onions around and on top and Roast for 1 1/2 hours, or until meat is cooked.

Remove chicken parts and onion chunks from the pan and put them into a large soup pot.  Add 4 cups of stock, pepper and sage and apple cider.

Into the still hot roasting pan, add 1 cup of water, which will hiss and start to boil. Scrape at all the dark stuff (this is where the good flavor comes from) so it mixes into the water.  Add to the pot.  You can repeat this step, with a little bit of water at a time, to get at all the good, baked on stuff.

Bring to a boil, then reduce and simmer for another hour or so.  The house will start to smell divine at this point.

Remove the meat and save for another day.

Strain the broth into a saucepan, pressing against the onions and bits to get all the liquid out.

At this point you can put it in the fridge, which makes the fat solidify at the top of the container.  You can easily remove the fat and throw it away before finishing the gravy on game day.

Heat the strained broth in the saucepan.  Remove about 1/4 cup of the broth and put it in a bowl with a couple TBLS of flour.  Whisk together until all lumps disappear and add to the pot.  Continue to do this until it reaches the thickness you like.  Keep it simmering stove top, stir occasionally.

At the very end, you can add a couple TBLS of butter into the gravy and whisk it in as it melts. This makes it shiny and pretty and tasty. I totally forgot this step this year and no one seemed to miss it at all.

And There I’d Keep Him Very Well

daphne on November 4, 2009

The “there” of which I speak is this inconceivably large pumpkin shell.  Care to guess whom I would like to stuff inside?

pumpkin shell

You might be thinking Dave, particularly if you have read the lyrical ode to my over- ambitious pumpkin-seed loving husband.  Perhaps putting him in a pumpkin shell is the consummate solution to a spouse mad out of his gourd.   I do like the way you think,  but it was actually this little guy I had in mind–

miles

This pint-sized delicious nephew of mine is coming to visit, and I know if given the chance I could keep him very well inside a giant pumpkin shell. But his mama is relatively new at all this baby stuff;  I bet when they arrive later this week she’ll insist on napping him somewhere clean and non-vegetative, like a pack+play.  New parents can be so unimaginative.

No sweat.  I already found a new occupant for the remains of the pumpkin shell abode.  You remember this guy?  We’ve renamed him ‘El Gordito’ after his recent pumpkin binge.

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He is thrilled with his edible bed.  Especially after I generously moved it out of the snow.  He was none too happy with the blizzard last week that left his stomping grounds looking like this —

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Before I moved his meal, El Gordito performed an interpretative cold paw dance on the snow that expressed his deepest desire (warm feet.) I should have caught it on film, but I have my reputation to consider. I don’t want people thinking that I’m spending too much time alone.  Alone, with squirrels, I mean.

Some would have me focus on the more human yet also cute inhabitants of this household.

Fine. For the record, cute humans that also reside here–

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Pictured: Sister Hermione, Sister Black Cat, and Mama Cowgirl.  Not pictured: Papa, sigh, Cowboy.  You’ll have to take my word for it.  Crazy-pumpkin-seed boy makes a mighty fine cowboy.  Yes-sir-ree-bob, he does.

Any-hoo, back to El Gordito.  I think I heard that you can actually bake things right inside a pumpkin shell.  Boy oh boy this year’s Thanksgiving dinner is practically preparing itself.

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Mmmm, Pumpkin roasted squirrel. Gotcha, Gordito! (That’s where I slam the whole squirrel-gourd combo into a big casserole and pop ‘er into the old oven.)

No, not really.  Here’s what I did do with the giant pumpkin shell.  In my quest for the title of  Auntie-of-the-Year, I pureed that 287 pound beauty.  I roasted. I diced.  I pureed and I pureed and I pureed.

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So here’s the deal baby Miles:  You can sleep wherever your newbie parents want you to sleep.  Just be sure to be hungry.  Be very very hungry.

Because, my dear boy, you have 875 pounds of pumpkin to eat.