Tag Archives: personal

Planning for Thanksgiving

Just for the record — so that I am sure to give credit where credit is due — you must understand that the photos in this post are not — *NOT* — of my own, personal Thanksgiving supplies. They are courtesy of the content of our local Whole Foods Market. Seen there. Not bought. Just so we understand each other.

Now that we’re clear …

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Thanksgiving is my holiday. It’s a little bit odd, seeing as how I’m the youngest of my family. Seeing as how I live far away. Seeing as how Philadelphia is cold in November, while sunny Southern California, where most of my family resides, is — well — sunny. But I’ve been doing Thanksgiving for most of my adult life. In college, it was as a refuge for students who couldn’t go home. Then it was for family and friends. Then, for the past couple of years, it has been mostly a family affair. Sarah and I got married on Thanksgiving, which makes it a sort of anniversary thing. And the fact is, I make a pretty damn good turkey.

The problem is that while I love doing Thanksgiving — while it’s a great excuse to cook for ten, or twelve, or once almost forty people — traditional fare is kind of a drag. Even a pretty damn good turkey is still really, really a turkey. It’s tasty, more or less, but the trick is not to make it good so much as to pick out a good one, then not screw it up. Then there’s the mashed potatoes, the gravy, dressing, some simple vegetable, bread, and pie for dessert. It’s all fine as far as it goes. But it’s so wholesome. So … boring.

Every so often, I’ll get it into my head to spice things up. One year, I did a turkey, then aloo gobi, pumpkin curry, and saag paneer. Want to guess how that turned out? That was the year that one friend brought her boyfriend, who was astonished that we didn’t have sweet tea, and actively offended by our lack of a working television. Apparently, there was some kind of game or something? Maybe? That was the year that another friend’s significant other walked outside to smoke a cigarette. And decided to stay there. And that was the year that my mother — at least I think it was my mother — took me aside and told me: Adam. Listen. Next year, why not take Thanksgiving off?

And so, duly chastised for my Indian-style transgression, subsequent Thanksgivings have been slightly less adventurous affairs. There were some glazed carrots one year, because they’re Sarah’s grandmother’s favorite. There was a pumpkin cheesecake, kindly supplied by my good, dear friend Beth. But that’s about as daring as it got.

And this year, I worry, is not going to be terribly much better. I’m feeling the itch again — the call of adventure. I’m looking to stray from the path, if only just a little. But for the most part, I fear that my audience will not be receptive. They seem to have some pretty strong ideas about what components are required for a meal to properly be called Thanksgiving. Plus my mother will be there. And she remembers my last Thanksgiving experiment.

So if I want to stray — and I do! — It will have to be subtle. No substituting leg of lamb for turkey, or making individual game hens (yum!). No fish, or gnocchi, or spaghetti and meatballs. Maybe something more like … changing the seasonings. Or playing — slightly — with dessert. I have already been warned — by more than one incoming guest — that pumpkin pie ice cream is no substitute for pumpkin pie. And that cranberry sorbet, while a perfectly acceptable palette cleanser, is no kind of dessert at all. And so I am left with a quandary: how do I bring that Thanksgiving excitement to the table, without also bringing on moans of bitter, bitter disappointment?

This is where you come in, gentle readers. What I propose to do here is give you two menus — one for the Thanksgiving meal itself, and one for brunch (which I have traditionally made for guests the next morning). And what I would like are suggestions — ideas for where I can tweak, shift or replace items to add a bit of variety, a bit of fun. If you like, we can make a game out of it — Plan My Thanksgiving! I can’t offer prizes (alas!). But good suggestions will earn my everlasting gratitude. For whatever that’s worth. So …

Thanksgiving Meal:

  • Butternut Squash Soup with Roasted Walnuts
  • Green Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette
  • Turkey (stuffed with apples, onions, and prunes for flavor)
  • Gravy (made from drippings, plus said apples, onions, and prunes)
  • Garlic Mashed Potatoes (perhaps with cheese, perhaps with a bit of truffle oil)
  • Bread Dressing
  • Kale Cooked with Bacon
  • Dinner Rolls
  • Pumpkin Pie
  • Vanilla and / or Pumpkin Ice Cream

Morning-After Brunch:

  • Multigrain Pancakes
  • Turkey Hash
  • Bacon and Sausage
  • Fruit Salad
  • Coffee
  • Giant Pitchers of Bloody Mary

As you can see from the squash soup, I’ve already changed some things up a tiny bit. But still: help!

(Honda) Insight Insights

This makes two non-food posts in a row. This trend will cease, I promise. Before you know it, I’ll be back to recipes, or write-ups of my local farmer’s market, or odes in verse to Manchego cheese, or what have you.

But like I said with regards to our recent spate of inclement weather: sometimes life impinges on baking. And this time, by life, I mean a new car.

Yeah. You heard what I said. Sarah and I have traded in our eleven-year-old, couldn’t-pass-its-emissions-test Toyota Corolla for something a little more modern, something a little more stylish, something a little more green. Well … actually less green. Taffeta white, to be exact. But stingier at the pump, at least, if you catch my drift.

We marshaled our forces, and laid siege to a Honda Insight Hybrid.

Now, before you say anything, the answer is yes. It is that Honda Insight Hybrid. The one that Consumer Reports panned roundly, and the one that Jeremy Clarkson of The Times of London called biblically terrible. But they can think what they like. That’s just, like, they’re opinion, man. We drove it. We liked it. It seemed more than adequate to our meager needs. And it was considerably less expensive (and drove considerably less like a boat on wheels) than the Toyota Prius.

I have no intention of telling you all about the Insight. You can find ample information about it here, if you want. And it is my considered opinion that there is no particular need to wax poetical about any car, new or old, except inasmuch as one should appreciate the presence of four wheels, working brakes, and an engine that goes when one presses on the gas. Still, I suppose, one must appreciate its sleek styling, its feisty pep, its EPA 43/40 fuel efficiency that many anecdotal reports suggest is in fact even better than advertised.

Okay. Maybe I am just a little bit excited. But it will pass.

Meanwhile, though I will not be boring you with inane automotive details, I will tell you that in the process of making the purchase, I learned some important things:

1) Everybody — from your friends, to your parents, to their friends, to your acupuncturist — is full of advice. Much of it is good. So seek it out. The odds are that everybody has bought a car more recently than you have.

2) Sales people are all really nice until you tell them that you’re going to buy. Then they’re sharks.

3) It’s not that the sales people are out to get you, or that they’re bad or dishonest. It’s that they do this every day. For a living. Whereas you do this — what? — once or twice a decade.

4) You’ll never get the price you want, especially for a hybrid. And especially if the dealer you’re working with is big.

5) You’ll also never get the trade-in value you’d like, or that you think you deserve, or that Kelly Blue Book says that you are due, even at their lowest valuation.

6) And it is probably better not to agree to buy the car, put down a small deposit, then tell the sales person that you’ll come back on Monday to close out the deal. Once they know you’re committed, you’re no longer a priority. And you might as well be something they dragged onto the showroom floor on the bottom of their shoe.

Items two through six really make my buying experience sound horrid, don’t they? But that’s not entirely accurate. Sure, there were some horrid moments: being kept waiting by the sales people, being forced to prove my financial solvency, having the dealership temporarily lose my financing information after I had already driven the car off the lot. But the truth of the matter is that I worked with two pretty trustworthy sales people, I got the car that I wanted, I got it at a price that all the online sources say is more than reasonable, and I am left with no lasting bumps or bruises, metaphorical or otherwise, as a result.

Buying a car, I think, is always going to be a little bit unpleasant because it’s such a big purchase, because it happens so infrequently, and because it’s one of the few circumstances (in the United States, at least) where we are compelled to haggle. It’s a lot of pressure. But you’ve got to take the bitter with the sweet, I always say. There was a short, intense interlude of feeling jerked around. But the likelihood is that there will be a much longer period — more than a decade, if my last car is any measure — where I will feel like a savvy consumer who only has to buy gas every four-to-six-hundred miles. And that, it seems to me, is worth it.

So … uh … happy new car day to me!

Welcome to my new blogging home.

Twice-cooked is an escape from, and refinement of, my long-kept and intermittently updated Livejournal.  I have found, over the years, that my blogging interests have focused themselves, narrowing from an accounting of my daily activities (mostly tedious) to an exploration, and sometimes a justification, of the various outlets for my dilettantism.  Which means, for now, that this is a blog about brewing, about food, sometimes about photography, and always — whether explicitly or not — about politics.  But it means too that it is a blog that is subject to change as my interests, and my convictions about what might be of interest to others, evolve.

If you have come to this site expecting Twice-Cooked Photography, know that it is no more.  That site made sense for me when I was part of an actively photo-friendly community, when I was more interested in having my photographs seen, and when I was taking pictures for money.  You will find a goodly number of my photographs here.  But largely, they will be in the service of my other interests.

Finally, if you had a photo gallery hosted through twice-cooked, worry not.  Those subdomains are (mostly) still active, and you can reach them directly through their URLs.