Thursday, November 22, 2007

Happy Thanksgiving

I do some things very well, some things pretty well and some things, well, I just don’t do well because I don’t like doing them. Like cooking. You can see by the picture of me here, that the last interaction I had with my oven was to set the time a few weeks back. And I had to read the instruction booklet. I don’t even know if you call it a stove or an oven. It’s just a large dust-catcher to me.

Thanksgiving will be at my parent’s house this year. All the siblings in attendance will be bringing some part of the meal. When one of my sisters asked what I’d be contributing, and I answered, “Mashed potatoes” she stared at me for a few seconds and said “Oh”, then quickly changed the subject. My mashed potatoes have a history flavored with ice crystals, sand (don't ask) or lumps in them. So this year, I consulted my friend and down-home cookin’ expert, Lisa. She understands my culinary background. When we were roommates about 100 years ago, she figured out that if something took longer than a despised 10 minutes of cooking, I just wasn’t going to make it. It was she that kept us fed with homemade staples such as brownies and noodles covered in white sauce. So over the phone yesterday, and this morning, she guided through the procedure. I’ve finally ended up with potatoes not unlike I’ve seen and eaten before at many a holiday gathering (made by someone else). In fact, I think it’s a shame to eat the evidence confirming my creation! But it's time for my dish to join in its rightly place among the other dishes waiting in my mother's kitchen. Eat up everyone, because this year, they're edible!

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