Thanksgiving. A uniquely American holiday. It's upon us, coming on Thursday. I could tell you all about the pilgrims and the Indians, but I'd have to get our a history book, and do the research which keeps changing. Whatever.
Still, it is a uniquely American holiday, and it begins what we call the holiday season. Thanksgiving was my Mother's favorite holiday and she did it right. The weeks leading up to it were a marathon planning session, with lists and oven schedules, and all manner of preparation. It was quite a logistical flex that would make any military planner proud.
Mom is still with us, and I am grateful for that, but Belle and I have taken over the Thanksgiving ritual. Mon will share the meal with us, and I'm expecting 25-ish for the noon meal. Belle and I aren't as hampered as Mom was, simply because we have two ovens. And a smoker that I can crank up to 400F if we need additional oven space.
The local grocer was running a sale on turkeys so I went and looked at them. Smallish birds, weighing 11 pounds average. So, I bought two of then. And a ham, and we'll have all the usual sides.
After the meal, I'll break those carcasses and put them in a stock pot, boil the leftovers to make stock, the peel the meat from the bones. The leftover turkey and stock will be saved for a gumbo that rivals the initial smoked turkey.
Which reminds me. When we go to the grocer this week, I need to pick up rice.