Y’all, Thanksgiving is exhausting.
I don’t know if it was the stress of having family over… Or the anxiety about cooking a perfect Thanksgiving meal all by myself… Or the physical exertion from standing on my feet in front of a hot stove all day (yes, I am THAT out of shape)…
But I am STILL tired.
Yet you, beloved Internet, deserve a full and detailed recap, bullets style. So I will persevere, for you!
Also, WARNING, there are a LOT of bullets. Seriously. There are so many I didn’t even count them.
Okay, my OCD won out. There are 20. Without even TRYING.
*Preparations began on Saturday, when I did my first round of Thanksgiving shopping. I wanted to buy the items on my list that wouldn’t spoil/grow moldy/otherwise decay before Thursday. As in NO VEGETABLES. However, when I saw some bagged celery hearts on sale, I surrendered and bought two, hoping mightily that they would not get brown and shrivelly before I had to serve them. Spoiler Alert: They turned out fine.
Shockingly, the grocery store was super busy. Everyone and their brother had a giant cart filled with canned pumpkin and bags of potatoes and turkeys. So I picked a lane and stood patiently in line for 20 minutes. Then I had a Super Awkward Encounter with the grocery store bagger when she looked directly at me and said “This lane is closed.” I think I may have almost fainted at the prospect of joining the end of another long line of 12,000 Thanksgiving shoppers. So I may have glared at her and said, “But my stuff is already on the belt!” And then avoided eye contact with her as I spitefully helped the wheelchair-bound woman behind me load all HER stuff onto the belt.
Turns out, Internet, the bagger was talking to someone behind the woman behind me. She told me this as she was bagging my groceries. AWKWARD. I promise I tried to make up for my grouchfacedness and spiteful conveyor-belt-loading by being extra nice and cheery.
*Sunday I made the stuff I felt wouldn’t go bad by Thursday. This included some spiced nuts.
Hmmm. The spiced nuts aren’t going to win any America’s Next Top Model competitions anytime soon.
Then I added some Lipton Recipe Secrets Savory Herb with Garlic soup mix to some sour cream. (By the way, I can NEVER find this soup mix at the grocery. NEVER. WTF, Internet?) Easy peasy. And super delicious. It’s equally good on veggies and chips.
*Monday, I did my second round of shopping after work. This is when I bought all the perishable stuff – veggies, cheese, bagels, lox, bread products. I’m sure the two extra days between my first round and second round made a world of difference in the freshness of my meal.
Whilst in the grocery, I may or may not have had to ask a Random Dude for advice about which lox to buy. Because seriously Internet? How is a non-lox eater supposed to determine the difference between Irish smoked salmon and Norwegian smoked salmon? Especially because the ingredients are IDENTICAL. Stop screwing with me, smoked salmon industry!
I may or may not have bought two entire bottles of Prosecco. Lesson of the day: Alcohol will not make you less of a control freak.
I also may or may not have purchased an entire small bag of real, full-fat Lays so I could “sample” my sour cream dip.
*My in-laws arrived on Tuesday. They kindly took my husband and me out to a delicious dinner. After dinner, I chopped up the bread for the stuffing.
My mom pointed out that bread comes PRE CHOPPED for stuffing! Did you guys know about that? And possibly tell me about it waaaaay back when I was doing my Fakesgiving extravaganza? That is awesome.
However… My husband really wanted cornbread in the stuffing per my earlier attempts. So, since chopping up bread takes about 5 minutes, I skipped the Easy Cheaper Option and went with the More Difficult One.
*Wednesday, I went to Whole Foods at 8:00 am to pick up my turkey breast, some gravy, and some fresh flowers. Then I had to go to ANOTHER grocery store to get Pepsi One for my mother-in-law. (She didn’t ask me to, but I know she drinks that because it doesn’t have nutrasweet or something, so I wanted to be sure to have some on hand.) (By the way, we now have 10 cans of Pepsi One. Anybody want it?)
When I got home, I cut the very minimum off the stems of the fresh flowers and shoved them haphazardly into vases. Here is what one of the vases looked like:
Then I may or may not have eaten the small bag of Lays chips and some sour cream dip for breakfast.
Then I put in a full day of work.
*After work ended, I made a quick batch of butternut squash soup and a side salad and welcomed my in-laws over for dinner. Keep in mind that this was the first time ever that my in-laws had eaten something I’d made for them. It was… nerve wracking. For all involved, I’m sure.
But my mother-in-law, bless her heart, liked the soup so much that she asked for the recipe! That’s a big compliment. And she helped me in the kitchen by tasting the soup until I’d added the proper level of salt. (My husband and I eat very little salt, so my homemade stuff often ends up being under-salted. It was helpful to have her there to taste test.)
Please keep in mind that my husband was on call. Which means he was at the hospital, where he stayed the entire night, not returning until 3:00 pm Thanksgiving Day.
*After dinner, we watched Letters from Juliet. Which had some beautiful scenery. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
Then my in-laws headed back to their hotel, to return the next day at 11:30 am.
*After they left, I did the dishes, chopped all my veggies for the following day, and put everything into storage containers. Then I labeled them things like “veggies for turkey” or “veggies for stuffing” or “garlic for mashed potatoes.” You know, in case I died or was otherwise incapacitated and my mother-in-law had to take over. Yes. Labeling the veggies was absolutely critical
I made cranberry sauce. (See: Going with the More Difficult Option) Then I made my husband’s famous pumpkin bars.
I thought about vacuuming the apartment one more time, but considering it was 2:00 am, I decided against it. To my noisy upstairs neighbors: You’re welcome.
*When I woke up Thursday morning, I hauled my laptop into bed and wrote out my detailed Day-Of Timeline. (Yes, I am a Control Fah-reak.) (In Unsurprising Revelation of the Day, I also had an extensive day-of timeline for my wedding. Which NO ONE FOLLOWED.) (GAH.) I will share it with you if you are so inclined. (My Thanksgiving timeline. Not the wedding one.) (Although you can have that too if you are a masochist.)
While you may choose to roll your eyes at my analitude, the schedule was AWESOME. It kept me totally on track. But more than that, it forced me to read all of my recipes in great detail. Which I am not very good at. (Hmm… Does this shed any light on my past experiences with Crappy Cooking?)
Then I took a shower and got ready. (Yes, that was on the schedule.)
(Man this bullet has a lot of parentheses.)
I contemplated opening some Prosecco to make mimosas… but decided that spending two hours drinking before my in-laws arrived would be detrimental to my cooking skills.
*After NOT drinking a mimosa, I made some candied pecans for the salad.
(Yes, these are different than the spiced nuts I made for appetizers.)
I washed and peeled all the potatoes and sweet potatoes and put them in big pots of water to keep until I was ready to chop and cook them.
Admittedly, I was concerned about pre-peeling the potatoes and sweet potatoes. But, as you already know, I am Super Particular About Weird Stuff. And one of the things I am Super Particular About is peeling potatoes. So I really really really wanted that out of the way.
I’d heard that you could store peeled potatoes in water. So back during one of my Fakesgiving sessions, I peeled a lone potato and put it in a water-filled Tupperware overnight, as a test. The potato was totally fine – not a spot of brown anywhere!
But then I chickened out when it came to Real Thanksgiving. Not only would I be storing the peeled potatoes in a metal pot rather than a plastic Tupperware… But I’d also be storing ALL of my potatoes. I didn’t want to chance Massive Potato Browning of all my potatoes (hello Thanksgiving DISASTER), so I waited until the day of to throw them in water.
Are you getting the sense that I tend to over think things? Just a bit?
*After I’d done all this stuff, I looked around and realized I had nothing to do. I’d planned so well, I had a Big Lull in my day.
My in-laws were set to be there at 11:30, but they were running a little late.
After standing around going crazy with all the Doing Nothing, I decided to get the Washing of the Turkey out of the way. I figured I could wash it, put it in a bowl, cover it with a towel, and then it would be all set to dump into the roaster when I needed it.
So I opened up the turkey, gagged a little bit as I tried to squeeze out the bloody juice (???!?!) into the sink, and promptly had my first panic attack of the day.
When I did my first Fakesgiving practice meal, I bought two turkey breasts at Whole Foods. But they were basically like larger, skin-on versions of the boneless, skinless chicken breasts you can buy at any grocery store. They weighed about 2.5 pounds each and all I had to do with them was pat them with a paper towel and drop them in the roaster.
But for Real Thanksgiving, I’d allowed my husband to talk me into a 7-10 pound BONE-IN turkey breast from Whole Foods.
I don’t know what I expected, but I surely did NOT expect this giant thing that actually looked like a whole turkey. It even had a CAVITY, Internet, which was one of the things I was trying to avoid. (At least it didn’t have any giblets.) (Blech.)
So I called my mom and may or may not have awakened my father because they are in a different time zone and may or may not have hyperventilated a little bit asking what I should do with this stupid thing.
She was very calm and knowledgeable and walked me through it. Bless her heart… She even suggested multiple creative ways I could touch the turkey without touching it. (Making makeshift “gloves” with cling wrap was on the list.) Then I hung up and stabbed the breast on either side with the multi-pronged “turners” that came with my roaster and carefully washed it without a) touching it or b) dropping it.
*When I got The Call that my in-laws were on the move, I set the table and put out the lox, bagels, cream cheese, capers, onions, and lemon slices.
My in-laws got there, we ate some bagels etc. (By the way, I can’t stand lox but I do like an everything bagel slathered in cream cheese and dotted with capers and diced red onions.) Then I banished ushered them to the couch and gave them my wedding album to drool over.
Internet, I thought it would be a delightful distraction. It was… For all of 10 minutes.
However, that was enough time for me to do the dishes and set the table with my “good linen” and my beautiful china.
Then I moved on to the next step on my Day-Of Timeline, which was getting the turkey all set to go in the oven.
I tossed my “veggies for turkey” into the roaster. I melted some butter in the microwave. (Without exploding it! Whoo hoo!) Then I used my (freshly washed) multi-pronged turner thingabobs to lift the (freshly washed) turkey into the roaster. Shortly thereafter, the turkey was safely in the oven.
Once again, I had a Big Lull.
*Per my Mission to Make My Mother-in-Law Feel Useful without Driving Myself Crazy, I asked my MIL to turn my bouquet-o-flowers into some lovely centerpieces.
This is where I encountered Flaw 2 in my plan: My apartment is so small that the ONLY place where my MIL could do the flower arranging was in the kitchen.
She very kindly agreed to do the arrangements and then set up camp in the kitchen. She proceeded to make some lovely centerpieces….
While I sort of stood there and watched. (See above RE: Big Lull)
*After that, things went pretty much like clockwork. I made the mashed potatoes, then the sweet potatoes, then the stuffing.
There was only a slight Sweet Potato Mishap, due to the fact that sweet potatoes are HARD to cut, even with a giant knife. And I may have dropped two sweet potato halves on the floor. One of them I felt comfortable washing (with soap, which my mother-in-law found quite novel [read: Crazy town]) and then re-peeling. The other one, well, I just couldn’t do it. It was too small and my mother-in-law peeled it but only peeled the side that touched the floor instead of the whole thing and she didn’t wash it with soap and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to eat the sweet potatoes if it went in there.
(Side Note of Weirdness: My MIL asked me, straight out, if it would bother me to have that other fallen sweet potato in the casserole. She told me that if it would bother me, I should just throw it away. And she said it in a very calm and kind and totally understanding way. But I couldn’t admit to her that it bugged me! [Why? I do not know! Clearly I have no problem admitting it to YOU.] I let her rinse it and peel it and set it down on the counter… And then I threw it away when she wasn’t looking. And now that I told the Internet about it, she will know all about it. But I’m hoping she will forgive me because she already knows I am wackadoo.)
My husband got home. My mother-in-law helped me adjust levels of seasoning in my potatoes. Which involved many spoons for tasting because I do NOT use a tasting spoon twice until it has been through the dishwasher thank you very much. And my mother-in-law – god help her – was very patient with my weirdness even though we wasted used about 8 spoons in the whole Salting the Mashed Potatoes Escapade.
At some point, she made homemade whipped cream for her chocolate soufflé cake (which she somehow brought on the airplane!).
My father-in-law chilled the wine.
All was good in the world.
*At one point, all four of us were in the kitchen and I had to shoo the men out because it was too crowded, but I did so in a way that was cute and friendly rather than panicky. (At least, I HOPE it was cute and friendly!)
My timeline was keeping me right on track, my mother-in-law was hovering but clearly trying as hard as she could to stay out of my way.
So I asked if she thought we needed candles on the table and gave her free rein to poke through the Assorted Beautiful Candlesticks that we got for our wedding. She picked a pair of crystal beauties my husband’s grandmother got for us and I think the table looked quite fetching.
*And then I made the gravy.
Internet, making gravy is simple. You squish all the veggies from under the turkey through a sieve. You make a roux with butter and flour. You add the drippings plus some chicken stock plus some bay leaves and cook until thickened to the desired consistency. Salt and pepper to taste. Bada bing, bada boom.
Easy. Super mind-numbingly easy.
(Do you hear the foreboding music yet?)
My directions said to cook the roux on high heat for five minutes. I’d done it BEFORE, following the EXACT SAME INSTRUCTIONS.
But I somehow got distracted. I think my mother-in-law was asking if there was anything she could do, and I was saying that no, I had it all under control, and I was trying to squeeze extra juice from the under-turkey-veggies while keeping an eye on the roux and my mother-in-law VERY KINDLY offered to do the dishes, which was very nice because who wouldn’t give up the dish washing part of Thanksgiving in a heartbeat? and I was looking at the counter which was crowded with Resting Turkey and Sieve with Under-Turkey Veggies and envisioning a scenario where little bits of scrubbed-off food particles were flung from the scrub brush and landing on the turkey or in the veggie mixture, and all of a sudden I turned around and the roux was smoking.
I grabbed it off the stove, in as nonchalant a way as anyone can whisk a pot full of acrid smoke off a stove, and plunged it into the sink and filled it with water.
Which, Internet, was DUMB with a capital D, because that just caused even MORE smoke to pour from the pot and completely take over the entire apartment.
Of course, the fire alarm – which hasn’t gone off EVER since we’ve lived here – started making its ear-splitting shriek of doom. And my father-in-law and husband started coughing and choking on all the smoke and we had to open all the windows and doors and allow the frigid air to come in and draw some of the smoke out.
I maintained my false aura of Intense Calm and Nonchalance and simply started a new roux in a new pot.
My MIL kindly and cheerfully recounted some tale of Entertainment Disasters Past when she burned a chicken or something. I can’t quite remember the story, but I do remember that it made me feel slightly better.
Because it is hard, Internet, to make a whole Thanksgiving dinner with only one little mistake and not feel like a Thanksgiving Failure.
*The turkey came out all golden brown and delicious smelling, and I put the dressing and the sweet potatoes in the oven. My husband carved the turkey, I set out serving dishes full of all the Thanksgiving goodness, and we all sat down to eat.
Yeah, that’s another view of the table. I didn’t include any time for picture taking in my Day-Of Timeline.
It was a big hit. My husband said the turkey was even better and more moist than it had been during Fakesgiving. My MIL praised everything, my FIL gave a very honest run down of everything – the potatoes were buttery, the turkey was delicious, the stuffing was rosemary-y, etc – and everyone had seconds. The only thing that anyone expressed real HATRED toward was the cranberry cheddar cheese I’d crumbled on the salad. And that person was my husband.
*After stuffing my face, I suddenly felt like I was going to fall asleep right there at the table. My in-laws left shortly after dinner and I went to bed and slept until 9:00 the next morning.
We spent the day with the in-laws, going to The Social Network (which I LOVED and my husband was meh about) and then doing a little shopping. My MIL praised my cooking to the proprietor of the store we went to (she’d known him for years).
Then we visited some friends of my in-laws and my MIL praised my cooking AGAIN and asked for the recipe for my turkey in front of her friend and I felt totally pleased and proud.
Also: Tired.
*After my in-laws left on Saturday, my husband had to work on his fellowship applications and I had to work on a big work project due Monday. Sunday, he went to the hospital all day and I worked on my big work project.
I am still tired.
And the good china is still sitting next to the sink. Unwashed.
DON’T JUDGE.
*Verdict? Cooking Thanksgiving dinner is not difficult but it is EXHAUSTING.
And there you have it, Internet. The big Thanksgiving dinner, for which I spent months preparing and stressing over, has come and gone.
I felt under control (for the most part). The food turned out well. I felt like I was doing justice to the proud Thanksgiving traditions my mom and my husband’s mom have always so admirably and effortlessly tackled.
Best of all, no one died or got food poisoning.
Overall, I’d say it was a success.
But man, I wish I hadn’t burned the gravy.
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