November 8, 2007 at 12:48am
by Camdon As we get ever closer to the day that Sarah J. Hale would love us to believe encourages family bonding I have started cooking that most iconic of dinners in my mind. Thanksgiving, to me, hearkens back to the glory days of harvest feasts attended by European religious zealots and their godless “Indian” neighbors.
I’ve got most of the meal planned in my noggin but desert remains ever elusive. I’m just not a desert guy. I’m thinking about making some marshmallows so we can do the s’more thing. Homemade marshmallows scream serious street cred where I come from. Martha Stewart isn’t the only big dog in the yard. I’m conflicted due to a feeling in my gut that, come the revolution, home marshmallow makers might be the first to go.
It’s looking like it might just be the four of us for the holiday. Even my mom isn’t coming this year. I guess the lure of Prague is to great. Well, that and the fact my dad is there. I’ll still spend the day cooking with the boys and creating olfactory triggers that will remind them of the home in which they grew up. Smells that will make them feel warm and loved no mater how much time has past since they last made their acquaintance.
So far we’ll have lamb, a chicken tangine, little Serbian style sausages, fresh pita, a salad or two, some form of yogurt sauce, probably a pasta, and some couscous. Ridiculous for four people but what the heck. Maybe more will show.
I’m cooking up the tangine just so I can use the pickled lemons I made this summer. I’m running two out of three on my summer pickles. The bread and butters came out well and i already knew how to make the lemons. My kosher dills were (and still remain) an abomination. What the heck do you do with horrible cinnamon flavored pickles? That’s the last time I follow a damn recipe to the letter. Stupid Ball Blue Canning book. You have betrayed me.
Please, if you own a “Barefoot Contessa” book burn it. Bury the ashes in a deep pit. She really bugs the hell out of me.
