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Thankful for Appetizing Food November 26, 2009

Posted by Kimmothy in Foodies, Holidays.
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Gobble-gobble-gobble, Happy Thanksgiving!

That’s kind of an old joke between me, Sister and our cousin Lori. One year, their family came to our house for the holiday and the night before we got the bright idea to make prank phone calls (this of course being back when the earth’s crust was still cooling and there was no Caller I.D. or Star 69) and somewhere between the hours of 2 and 4am, called random people in the phone book and said that to them. We were shocked at not only the amount of people who sounded completely alert and awake when they answered, but also at the fact a lot of them cheerfully said thank you. Prank calling Fail. The best part was when an older man answered sounding very confused and Lori said, “You’re dreaming, sir, go back to sleep,” and quietly hung up.

Speaking of which, my eyes sprang (sprung? sproinged?) open at 5:52 this morning of their own accord, and I’m not quite sure why. Because (a) this is the first morning of a 4-day holiday weekend in which I excitedly planned to sleep in every day (b) I’m not hosting dinner at my house, so no need to do any cooking or cleaning, and (c) I’m not a nine-year-old and it’s not Christmas morning. Ah, insomnia – you are a wily bastard.

I did make the chocolate pies I’d been planning to make last night, and I must say they came out awesome looking. I’m somewhat known for making good-tasting-but-unfortunate-looking desserts, but all the Food Network  I’ve been for some reason obsessively watching this week must’ve rubbed off somehow because at the last minute I got inspired to sprinkle frozen, crushed-up Butterfingers on top and when I realized how the brown and orange colors looked like I’d done a Thanksgiving color theme on purpose, I literally did a little happy dance. I realize this isn’t exactly a culinary breakthrough, but when you’re me, it’s exciting to be bringing something to share with actual other people that looks as attractive as I know it’s going to taste. That sounds braggy, but it’s the go-to dessert I use at holidays and I’m a pro at it by now. 

I’m usually fairly confident in the kitchen when it comes to cooking for just us. Not only is Brian a very appreciative, non-picky eater, he’s also nice enough that when I make something less than stellar, he finds something about it to like. Example:

Me: “Damn, this steak turned out so tough; I probably should’ve marinaded them longer.

Him: “They’re not that bad; plus whatever spices you used taste great.

Or,

Me: “Sorry about these black-bottom biscuits; I guess I left them in a few minutes too long.”

Him (calmly peeling the burnt layer off and handing it to the dog): “That’s okay; I like when they’re a little well-done.”

It’s nice. But whenever I’m in the position where I’m cooking for other people, for some reason I lose my damn mind. Like the one time I was tasked with bringing the dessert to an office Christmas party, nothing more complicated than a Betty Crocker cake mix cake, and by the time I got done icing it had turned into such a stressball, had to actually go lie down and take a nap. Granted that was my first-ever job, but my confidence never really progressed much after that.

I’m not really sure why this is though, because other than sometimes being a little funny-looking, I don’t really remember producing forth anything that was an embarrassing disaster. Well, except for the Blondie incident where I thought it would be perfectly acceptable to substitute baking soda for powder and they came out tasting like carbonated bready bricks. Or when I accidentally used self-rising instead of all-purpose flour to make corn fritters and they rose up into terrifying puffy corn cakes. Took awhile to live both of those down.

Ah well. Today I’m very much looking forward to seeing family we haven’t seen in awhile, my mother-in-law’s spread, my pretty and tasty dessert and most of all not having to clean my kitchen. I hope everybody who’s reading this has a fantabulous Thanksgiving.

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Comments»

1. LL Cool Joe - November 26, 2009

Thank God I finally managed to get on your blog!! You crack me up with your cooking stories. Especially the one about the Betty Crocker cake mix. I’m so glad I don’t cook.

We don’t celebrate Thnksgiving here in the UK, it’s just another day of boring normality.

I really hope you have a wonderful day, and I do miss reading your blog entries.

Hey I may be getting a new computer for Christmas so I’ll be here more. I hope that doesn’t spoil your day! 😀

Kimmothy - November 26, 2009

No, quite the opposite – you just gave me another reason to be thankful today!!

2. iamheatherjo - November 26, 2009

Nummy crushed Butterfinger chocolate pie! Fantastic idea. 🙂

I had a Betty Crocker cake disaster. It was the first cake I’d ever made all by myself. It was for my best friend’s 21st birthday. I had a surprise party for her. As I was watching one of the boys take a bit of the cake, I watched him pull a hair out of his mouth. I was mortified. I have really long hair, yanno? It probably ran the length of the damn cake with my luck. I told everyone to stop eating and one of the boys looked at me and said “It’s YOUR hair, right?” and kept eating.

I just couldn’t eat another bite and from then on I bake with my hair in a braid and I usually wear a backwards baseball cap too!

Kimmothy - November 27, 2009

Hee hee – good one!
That reminded me of another cake disaster I had with one I made for Brian’s birthday a few months after we’d been dating. I somehow inverted the measurements for the water and vegetable oil and after starting to mix it up realized it, since it looked like a big oily glop. Instead of throwing it out and going out to get new cake mix for what, a dollar? I tried to salvage it buy scooping the excess oil out with the measuring cup. Baked it, and frosted it and when we all took a bite out of it, we all quickly spit it back out. Not only did it taste as bad as you can imagine, it had the consistency of a brick. He had just moved in with me a few weeks’ prior, and I bet he was a little frightened at what he’d gotten himself into after that.
I’m glad I don’t smoke weed anymore.

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