We’re awaiting company for the holiday – Presley’s mom, mom’s boyfriend Marc, and sister Kelly are joining us in a proper New England Thanksgiving.
The pumpkin and corn breads smell wonderful, the turkey is still thawing, and we picked out a few nice wines to go with dinner. Ok, so maybe the Puritans didn’t drink French wine – or wine at all – but I’m sticking to the “proper New England Thanksgiving”.
The funniest part (to me) was that our 1-month old Sears Kenmore refrigerator died yesterday – luckily we were able to shuttle off various bits to neighbors’ fridges, and get a repairman to the apartment today. It’s not going to be Pieces of April (which incidentally is really quite good, and you should go see it).
thanksgiving isn’t my favorite american holiday.
why can’t chicken be served, not turkey? the pilgrims won’t know. their dead anyhow.
because there’s no challenge to roasting a chicken. If you haven’t burnt all the tips off of your fingers trying lift 25 lbs of bird and juice out of a 400 degree oven then you have NOTHING to be thankful for.
I probably eat chicken 5-6 days out of the week. How often do you get the taste of a freshly carved, butter/wine-basted roasted turkey? If you’re lucky, once a year.
Also, the stuffing is soooo good when it’s cooked inside the bird. mmmm…