Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The sun is out and it looks deceptively lovely outside. The kicker is when you open the front door and find that it is 28 degrees. 28! I love down. It's that time again when I begin to wax romantic over my down booties, down comforter and down coat. There is nothing like down to keep you toasty warm without weighing you down (pun intended). I find that down is comfortable on even warmer days. Just the right weight all around. It's the only way I can survive here. Down. I don't get too deep in thought about how the down is acquired, because then I would have to face the fact that somewhere is a goose running around without his feathers. Sorry bub, it's every man for himself. Speaking of, our Thanksgiving Tom is still enjoying his pasture and friends, not knowing that he is seven days away from execution. How sad for him. I have been reading about the differences between the Butterball variety and the fresh free-range variety. There are definite differences, one of them being that the free-range birds have breasts that are appropriate to their size. The Butterball variety has huge breasts because they are raised to grow exceptional breasts-albeit chemically enhanced - the Pamela Anderson of the turkey experience. Now I prefer white meat to dark meat, in fact I don't like dark meat at all, which means I may be hugely disappointed in the breasts of our free-ranged bird. If that is the case, I WILL be out at Price Chopper on Friday after Thanksgiving, purchasing and cooking up another bird. There is nothing like sandwiches after the big meal, and if there isn't enough white meat to add to my leftover experience, I'm going to be just a tad freaked. White bread, white meat, cranberry salt and pepper. I cannot be without that sandwich around 10 PM. Hopefully, our free-range friend will measure up in the boob department. We're also preparing the rutabaga, which until last year we have incorrectly called them turnips. I was raised on turnips which my father cooked with lots and lots of pepper in the boilng water. Who knew that they were really rutabaga? It caused us no end of confusion in the vegetable section. but now that we know what to call them, we still cook them the same way. We all have our "must haves" for Thanksgiving and we try to respect that. Jackie's must have is the green bean casserole. Not my favorite, but we make it anyway. We're still working on those lists, but the bird is ready. Whether he realizes it or not, he's ready. He's taking one for the Rasiak-Rowland team. We appreciate it. but I'm still cutting my price chopper coupon. Just in case.
at 8:05 AM