We made our way up to Mendocino to meet a friend of mine and her extended family for Thanksgiving. The occasion called for some serious brevity as our setting was as such: two nights and one and a half days of smart, sharp, opinionated women (ages 13-60 something) and the sole male representative I brought with me (who held up handsomely, I might add, and who definitely deserves some kind of serious achievement award).
Our setting was a mish-mashed home of happiness in the woods with one of the most practical and welcoming kitchens I’ve ever had the pleasure of participating in. We made turkey, we made ham. We made oyster stuffing, pepper stuffing, broccoli, green beans, yams, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, cranberry relish, gravy, salsa, mixed squash, apple crisp, pumpkin-pecan pie cheesecake, and apricot sticky-toffee pudding. I made potato-leek soup and everyone ate it as a snack before the real feast began.
We torched a ham, and several hours later felt compelled to torch “one of the desserts.” There was a disproportionate interest in pyrotecnics when compared to the level of estrogen in the household.
A sampling of recipes and photos will follow this post as soon as I recover fully from my food coma.
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