No leftovers for me, thanks anyhow. I don’t “do” leftovers. After strategizing the shopping/cooking/cleaning process, then executing it all, I am done, done, done. But it was good. For once everything came out pretty much exactly the way I wanted it to. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as much of my own cooking as I did last night.
How was your Thursday? Did you spend at least part of it with people you love and/or are tied to either by nature or by nurture? Did you eat way too much?
That’s the tradition, of course, gustatory excess. Had to break out the incongruously old Webster’s New Collegiate for that one, to be sure I had the right word. I did. Phew.
It’s about taste. Taste, as in one of the five, not as in “Does this shirt go with these pants?” We had a nicely roasted formerly happy but now dead free range organic turkey – ha ha, vegetarian humor. I’ll cook the carcass but I’ll mock the poor thing, too -- with lemony couscous dressing and carrot/potato gratin and Brussels sprouts with avocado, pecans and balsamic and maple cranberry sauce, and what, now I’ve forgotten it all, oh and maple-roasted sweet potatoes and crusty bread with sweet butter. Dessert was an apple cake with hot salted caramel sauce and Robert’s home made vanilla ice cream. I ended up not making the pumpkin soup, but Christmas is coming and the cooking starts all over again. Santa can have soup.
Yep, gustatory was the right word. I hope your Thanksgiving was gustatory bliss.
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