Babies, tarnish and dust.

The part of this that is a story, at the beginning, is mostly true and very short - hardly even a story, it's so short. But it's true nonetheless, in the important ways, and amended appropriately because it isn't mine. A number of years ago a dear friend was hosting Thanksgiving dinner. More specifically, a … Continue reading Babies, tarnish and dust.

Many hands, light work.

Today's show-off TV chefs would never have survived the Thanksgiving kitchens of my youth. The roasting turkey, oyster dressing, scalloped potatoes, tender rolls and sweet potato pie were all in well-practiced hands, so my Southern matriarch predecessors would have sent Bobby Flay packing - gracefully, I'll add. At a minimum they would would have dispatched … Continue reading Many hands, light work.

A dog, a rat, and Thanksgiving.

Perhaps to keep us from falling into the abyss that is pre-Christmas commercial madness, here is a story about Thanksgiving that includes a dog, a rat and the frivolity of Starbucks. You should know up front that the dog dies and the rat escapes, but it's really not a sad story, I promise. In my … Continue reading A dog, a rat, and Thanksgiving.

Setting a new table. (food, week of 11.25.13)

18 years ago this week I was heading to Jackson, WY to celebrate Thanksgiving with my sister and her new husband chase Bernard.  As married readers know, there's no Thanksgiving quite like your first Thanksgiving, the first time you attempt to meld whatever traditions were cultivated in each of you and initiate those of your … Continue reading Setting a new table. (food, week of 11.25.13)