I spent some time going back and forth about how fancy to make Thanksgiving this year. Last year was really simple, but the two before that were 11-course extravaganzas (2008, 2007). We have a wedding to attend on Saturday, so family will be in town, but some of them have to drive over an hour after dinner. So I decided to split the difference and make something in the 6-course range. I went shopping today and got what I think I need; if I forgot something I will make substitutions. And, in typical fashion, ours will be a turkey-free Thanksgiving.
Year: 2010
Bread season is in full effect. There’s nothing that warms up a kitchen (and by extension a house) like a loaf of bread baking in a hot oven. The smell quickly fills the house, and makes one grab butter from the fridge in anticipation.
With the wet, semi-cold weather comes the familiar scratchy-throated, fatigued feeling of impending sickness. We all have our various folk remedies. Mine centers around immediate and prolonged sleep, and has been known to include (in extreme cases) swabbing the throat with cut garlic cloves and cotton swabs dipped in tabasco sauce. Recently, though, when a couple of fingers of good whiskey neat don’t seem quite enough, I’ve been playing around with the storied combination of booze, honey, citrus, and hot water.
Honestly, what is it with you? I post a picture of seasonally-appropriate pumpkin pie, positively groaning under the heavenly decadence of a cumulus cloud of whipped cream, anointed with a lascivious dribble of maple syrup, and even go so far as to post said picture along with an ACTUAL RECIPE for the best crust in the world. And submit the picture to the most shamelessly dessert-whoring websites in tubedom. And what do I get?
Here’s that pork chop–the one that so generously provided the bone with which I made the stock that embellished the chicken roulade kabobs so handsomely. I had a busy weekend (ceramics sale and then return to Rhode Island to collect all the work from the gallery) so this will have to do until I empty the camera of pictures from intervening meals. Having said that, though, it was a good one.
Because the Internet does not have enough pictures of dessert, I hereby offer a solution. I’m all about solving problems. It’s just what I do.
Usually when I see the end product in my mind before I begin to cook it turns out pretty well. I don’t know why this is, but I’ve learned to trust it; when I want to make a particular thing–even if I’ve never made it before–I do my best to make it. It almost always works.
The studio is having its annual holiday ceramics sale this weekend, so I have been busy making, glazing, and firing a bunch of new pieces for that as well as filling several orders that have come in since the last plate-related post. (Thanks, Zoomie). Here’s a rundown of the most recent batch, beginning with these oval dinner plates for friends in Boston.
It warmed up a bit, and that made for a November Sunday perfectly suited to getting some chores done. I spent a couple of hours out in the garden dismantling tomato trellises and then cleaning out all of the tender beds; the blasted remnants of cucurbits and nightshades all got raked into the compost along with lawn trimmings, the kitchen pile, ashes from the grill, and some leaves.