A Late November Day

The turkey was gorgeous and what turkey was meant to be. I never knew until now. He made the Contessa's stuffing (and added some of this stuffing's ingredients) and mashed potatoes. I made orange cranberry sauce, pumpkin wild rice soup (that I forgot to serve), gravy, and a Paula Deen casserole (my goal was to use evaporated milk somewhere).

Thanksgiving Menu

November 22, 2012

Pumpkin Wild Rice Soup

Relish Tray

Roast Turkey and Gravy

Sausage and Herb Stuffing

Mashed Potatoes

Peas without their Pod

Vidalia Onion Casserole

Waldorf Salad

Orange Cranberry Sauce

Rolls, Jam, Butter

Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie

Tollhouse Pie

Whipped Cream, Vanilla Ice Cream

Autumn M&M Cookies

We went to pick up mother's new puppy, Fritz. He is a red miniature Dachshund. His half-sister Freda will join the fray in a few weeks, as she matures. We finished decorating Mother's house for Christmas today. I have not been shopping since Wednesday. My push this year is Swedish trolls. I found a few at TJ Maxx and have been back to no avail. 

Mark and I move into a rental home in Las Vegas on December 1. We will be there only briefly until we can return to San Diego. It will be a great first home with plenty of natural light. We will move in and decorate for Christmas. We are excited to be together for Christmas.

I am reading The House at Riverton. Next on my list are: The Wind in the Willows, Doctor Zhivago, and The Ruby in the Smoke. With our move I am interested in joining a few groups: quilting and books. It will be an adventure. Also adventurous will be living with Mark's two dogs. One is a very smart and ready to please Malinois. The other is an older Whippet who is ruled only by his stomach. He is labelled a pain by those who know him.

When we survive both our moves, we will be in good shape. The holiday will be near. And we will be ensconced in hearth and home.

Cranberry Thanksgiving

But forget all that today. It was Thanksgiving, her favorite day of the year. The cranberries had been picked, boxed and sent to the market. The dried corn had been soaked and the corn pudding made. The turkey was roasting in the old iron oven. Turnips, tiny green peas and a pumpkin pie were ready. Then cranberry bread was cooling on the wooden board. The real work was done and the feast was almost ready.

Every year Grandmother invited a guest for dinner and allowed Maggie to do the same. 

"Ask someone poor or lonely," she always said.

It never mattered to Maggie or her grandmother that the red carpet was worn and mended or that the silver spoons didn't match. Friendship and sharing were important. Everyone knew that. 

Grandmother's Famous Cranberry Bread
(Get Mother to help)

2 C sifted all-purpose flour
1 C sugar
1 1/2 t baking powder
1 t salt
1/2 t baking soda
1/4 C butter
1 egg, beaten
1 t grated orange peel
3/4 C orange juice
1 1/2 C light raisins
1 1/2 C fresh or frozen cranberries, chopped

Sift flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda into a large bowl. Cut in butter until mixture is crumbly. Add egg, orange peel, and orange juice all at once; stir just until mixture is evenly moist. Fold in raisins and cranberries.
Spoon into a greased 9 x 5 x 3-inch loaf pan. Bake at 350 degrees F for 1 hour and 10 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Remove from pan; cool on a wire rack.

Recipe tested by the Food Department of Parents' Magazine.

In a Nutshell: Thanksgiving with the Indians

Flights: amazingly well spent and pleasing. I used to not sleep in planes; now I can for a couple hours.

Movies and TV viewed en route: Quand J’étais Chanteur (The Singer) featuring Gérard Depardieu as an aged lounge singer opposite his young love interest. I watched bits of this repeatedly and finally admitted he is an endearing character.
The Page Turner (also French), a mean-spirited film of a young pianist who is disillusioned during a recital/judging and gives up the piano. She later comes into the life of a family (the pianist mother being the one who dissed her at the judging) as a nanny and ruins their lives through treachery. She turns composition pages for this woman at a piano performance, hence the title.
The Break-up with Jennifer A. and Vince V. I tired of their constant bickering but approved the performances of the art shop receptionist and Jennifer A’s “brother.”
Fifteen minutes of Pirates II. Did not enjoy this and thought I would have nightmares of the tentacles. Yick.
One whole episode of MacGyver and a bit of The Love Boat (Doc was jumping up and down on a mini tramp by the pool. All the men had on tiny shorts. Long shorts are a pleasing change).

Illegality: snapping two pictures inside the Taj Mahal. My guide hissed to quickly take a picture of the inlaid stones while he shone a flashlight on them. I obeyed but these images will not implicate me being that I needed a flash (had my bulky camera with me).

What a huge proponent of light packing wishes she had packed: a nail brush (I simply walked outside and my nails became filthy) and a heel pumice (my poor feet were clad in sandals most of the trip (and most of my life); would that I could have filed them).

What I wish I hadn’t brought: multiple long pants and long sleeved shirts. The weather for the most part was hot and humid, especially in the south (Hawaii like climate). Knee-length skirts would have been perfect. (I had brought one and bought one there. I also wore long shorts some of the time.)

Bookshelf (in order of attack): Climbing the Mango Trees by Madhur Jaffrey (recent Knopf bio with recipes of the cookbook writer and actress); The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai (winner of 2006 Man Booker Prize); half of V.S. Naipaul’s India: A Wounded Civilization; half of A Princess Remembers: The Memoirs of the Maharani of Jaipur (purchased in Mumbai on a recommendation after I had visited the Rambaugh Palace, now a hotel, in Jaipur).

Animal Fair: elephants, camels, goats, cows, bulls, monkeys, cats, dogs, birds, two dead rats, one or more live rats.

Casualty: one black hair clip (see also claw) that is integral to my being. It was mercilessly crushed on the flight from Delhi to Cochi.

Loss: black yoga pants used for running around. I believe they must have been left in Jaipur, hung out to dry (literally).

Flavorings acquired: two packets of black peppercorns and 10 vanilla beans (gift of Nimmy Paul, cooking instructor). Two packets of whole cardamom and one packet each of nutmegs and fenugreek.

Spices I wish I had bought (what can I say . . . I was overwhelmed): chili powder, curry powder, and black mustard seeds.

Other purchases: textiles (Gandhi proclaimed the answer to India’s ills is the spinning wheel) and two pieces of cookware, one aluminum pot and one steel uruli, a flat bowl for stovetop (I will try to post an image) for a combined weight of about 4 kilos.

Brought home: a taste for marble.