pre-thanksgiving cop-out plan
This year Robert-the-Goodman and I are again hosting the whole clan for Thanksgiving, about 16 darling people. As I begin my to-do list, my standards are (as usual) dropping faster than my panties on Saturday night.
For example, I just learned about turkey thighs! I realize they’re a cop-out, but not as bare-faced as my usual one, a Sam’s Club spiral-cut ham. Besides, my elderly oven just won’t accommodate the mini-Cooper-sized turkey these folks deserve.
So that’s my current plan … big pans of roasted turkey thighs and onions, along with these usual suspects:
• cornbread dressing with sausage, onions, bell pepper, and celery (we’re Southern; cornbread rules)
• gravy with lots of caramelized onions, chopped hard-boiled eggs, and water chestnuts, plus a blob of dressing to thicken
• Coke salad — dark cherry Jello, dark canned cherries, crushed pineapple, walnuts, and (wait for it) Coca-Cola. I know it sounds horrible, not to mention vintage, but it’s terrific and much easier than Waldorf salad
• sweet potatoes in some form (I’m offloading those to cousins Mary and Paula and sis Nora)
• some nice side veggie (supplied by the first sucker who says “What can I bring?”)
• lovely rolls via cousin Mart, and MAYBE a smoked brisket from cousin Jim … which would be elegant and would mercifully upstage the turkey thighs
• asstd pies, last known address Kroger’s frozen section
• ESSENTIAL: LOTS AND LOTS OF CHAMPAGNE
Robert discovered a delicious and modestly-priced (for which read cheap) Spanish sparkling wine that we buy by the case as the holidays approach. I’ll fill the washer with ice and cold water, stick a dozen bottles of the Cristalino “champagne” in it, and we’re good to go.
Besides, people don’t gather for the food or centerpieces or wine. We get together to marvel again at how blessed and lucky we are. And, of course, for the guys to adjourn to the bedroom and watch football on our humongous TV.
By now you suspect that I’m writing about Thanksgiving a month ahead of time so you’ll send me your favorite cop-out recipe, or align yourself with my low character, or chastise me for not having mashed Irish potatoes as well as sweet ones, a dead giveaway that you are the sort who makes bread dressing. One of my best friends does that, and I love her anyway,
Go ahead. I can take it. I’ll actually welcome it.
Peace and love!
Roz
Tags: cooking, humor, parties, Thanksgiving
