QUOTE (Mcgee @ Nov 13 2007, 02:32 PM)

Not sure what the wife does. I haven`t been home for Thanksgiving in 22 years.
After a day in the woods if need be. We do a turkey dinner at hunting camp.
You've been gone for the Thanksgiving holiday for 22 years and you've never bothered to find out what your wife does while you're gone?
Wowza. You might want to investigate if she's plotting an accidental hunting accident for you?

I cooked Thanksgiving dinner this year.
You heard me! Save the jokes for some time when I've fixed my infamous 20 minute grilled cheeses!
My menu:
Roast Chicken
Mashed taters home made
Stove Top stuffing
Gravy by chicken juices
Rolls by whatever frozen
Succotash (corn and lima beans)
Pumpkin Pie (purchased from a local high school culinary class)
Guests:
I've asked to "perform" this dinner in the past and only this year was I granted permission and only because most of the family wasn't coming. I only had to cook for the greatest people in my life, the best cooks I know: my mom and grandma with a short check-in from dad.
I knew I'd ace it and I did!
What Grandma was supposed to bring: homemade pumpkin pie and mac n cheese. What she did bring: homemade pumpkin pie and mac n cheese, candied sweet taters, cranberry sauce in a can, salt and pepper. (Obviously there were discussions amongst my parents and my grandmother that I don't teh loathsome condiments.)
I had every damn base covered except I couldn't find cornstarch for gravy after I scanned the entire baking aisle.
Screw that. I bought McCormick gravy which is just a pouch of powder! How is that different from scratch? It's still homemade!

God, anyhow. I'm blabbering.
My mistakes:
The chicken had instructions. The timer will pop out when done. It didn't say how it would take! I put it in at 11am for guests at noon. Chicken was done at 1:30pm. Mom: "it takes a long time to cook a bigger piece of meat, Heather." Me: "An hour IS a long time, Mom."
Sliced finger open peeling taters.
In effort to keep gravy hot, I reduced it down to a couple spoonfuls.
Didn't realize Grandma put cranberry sauce in fridge which wasn't present at dinner because I didn't know it was in the fridge and doesn't matter anyway because I didn't buy it because no one ever eats it except for me and my wonderful grandma and then if only a little piece.
OMG. I'm not even going to bitch about the dead chicken carcass I had to handle. It was gross. I'll sum it up in this conversation: Me: "It was like handling a baby. The dead parts moved and felt sick and pale." Grandma: "Heather!! I'm not eating anymore of it!"
Seriously though. Have you ever picked up a raw roaster chicken? The skin. Cold and dead. And it's heavy and pliable. :still no emotion suitable after all these years:
There was too much blood! Blecht! I'm never handling a piece of carcass ever again.
I'm going to turn veg again at any second. I can feel it coming on.
Everything was excellent though. And we watched The Sopranos whilst merry making. Ha!