A Thanksgiving Miracle

I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. I did. It was great to see my whole family, especially the 'rents and my sister. My aunt Kathy did an awesome job, as always. Not an easy feat with 25 people to cook for. But, the bacon on the turkey was yummy and my Grandma's scalloped oysters were the best! Mmmmm cheesy beans..... Of course, it was all even better the next day for lunch. And then everything was gone. With 25 people, there aren't a lot of leftovers.

There's also not a lot of elbow room. My cousins have a lot of kids. And they're everywhere. Don't get me wrong, I love the hell out of them, but as someone who is not used to having them around all the time, it gets a bit overwhelming. But, I learned how to play Monopoly Junior (you have to buy what you land on, and you can bump someone off!), got the snarls and knots out of Barbie's hair and her wig with a tiny little plastic comb, and I dressed Polly Pocket Princesses with Caroline. I showed her a naked, bald Disney Princess, and she would pick out the dress for me. I requested ones with short sleeves, as it's HARD to get those little arms down those rubber sleeves. Little kids really can do that??? And then Caroline would pick out shoes. Sometimes there was one pink and one white, but hey, our princesses were trendy.

And the Thanksgiving miracle...my dad didn't comment about my hair. I could always make book on him saying something within 10 minutes of seeing me again. I'd get the squint, as he would stand there, staring. "What?" I would ask. "What did you do to your hair?" he would ask. "Nothing," I would answer slowly, waiting for the comment. It's always too something. Too short, too long, too straight, too curly, too orange, too black (it was actually wet when he said that one, so it was darker than usual). I've never had a straight man take so much interest in my hair. So thanks Dickie, for letting me just be me and for coming to Thanksgiving. I was very thankful that you (and Mom, of course) were there.

You know it's going to be a good day...

when the radio station you're listening to on the way to work plays "Eye of the Tiger!" Definitely a song meant to be sung out loud. But only when the car is in motion, not stopped at lights. You don't want people to think you're insane.

It's been awhile

Since Duran Duran made an appearance here. Total classic.

Things I can do

Now that I live by myself (not counting the insane cat that holds court from a chair in the living room), there are a few things I can do that I couldn't when I lived with my sister.

1. I can eat ice cream right out of the carton.
2. If there are toast "remnants" in the butter, no one will make a snide comment.
3. I can sing out loud while cooking whatever I want.
4. I can walk around naked. Not that I have. But I could. As long as I remember to close the blinds.

A new twist on an old not-so-favorite

Every Thanksgiving, my aunt puts on an amazing spread with two kinds of stuffing (one with onions, one without) and my grandmother whips up her scalloped oysters. We all look forward to Thanksgiving every year. Oooo the bacon on the turkey! I can't wait! Every year, my aunt also serves that frozen squash that looks like orange mashed potatoes. And every year, my mom tries to get me to eat it. "Try it, you'll like it," like I am a finicky child. I love food, and I love to try new things. But orange mashed potatoes that are really squash is not one of those things. It's like a bowl of orange mashed blah or baby food. I think my uncle and my grandmother are the only ones that actually eat it. Even my mom, for all her attempts to get me to eat it, never seems to have any on her plate. But it's tradition. It wouldn't really be Thanksgiving without the great squash debate.

Today, I finally found a use for that orange squash that has nothing to do with babies, and everything to do with flavor. I got three boxes of the stuff, and defrosted them while I sautéed a chopped Vidalia onion in half a stick of unsalted butter. Then I tossed in a chopped up potato and three chopped carrots, along with a box of chicken stock, added some salt and pepper, a big pinch of thyme and some sage, along with a bay leaf from my Grenada trip. I brought that all to a good boil, then simmered it until the potatoes and carrots were soft. I slowly spooned in the defrosted (OK, some of it was still a little frozen) squash and brought it all back up to a boil. Then I broke out the immersion blender and went to town whirring everything into a nice creamy consistency, with a couple little chunky carrots for texture, and then poured in some fat free half and half. The finishing touch was fresh grated nutmeg from Grenada.

The results: A hearty satisfying squash soup that had me going back for seconds! And all from something I wouldn't even taste all on its own. (Although next time, I'll follow the rules of Paula Deen and start with a whole stick of butter.)