rthstewart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rthstewart) wrote2014-11-20 09:08 am
rthstewart) wrote2014-11-20 09:08 am
Entry tags:
Holiday disasters because misery loves company
In anticipation of a BIG WORK THING that may come out next week, I have shoved the hosting of the American gorge-fest known as Thanksgiving off on my foreign-born sister in law. She's very excited to take the mantle from me and rightfully intimidated. I keep saying, no, really, let other people bring vegetables, bread, desserts, liquor, appetizers, etc. etc. Really. Let your 12 guests help.
No, no, no, she insists. She has, at least, realized that a frozen turkey will take a week to thaw in the refrigerator but I do wonder if she's really thought about those inevitable space issues when the turkey comes out and has to sit while you 1) make gravy 2) make mashed potatoes; 3) wait for the stuffing to hit adequate internal temperatures in the now vacated oven to cook the egg in it so you don't inadvertently make everyone sick (or used pastuerized egg product or leave egg out). Oh sweet child of summer, you have no idea what you are in for and really you should take the help offered.
Correllian_sugar in the December meme prompt (and spaces still open!) got all apologetic about asking for cooking successes as well as failures but, in fact, I've got a million of woops stories and I'm really excited to share them. My personal favorite, involving a horse and an exploding sweet potato casserole, I shall save for December. But, in the meantime, I invite you all to share in comments cooking, hosting, travel holiday disasters. And econopodder and knitress I'm looking at you to share some as you've been at my house for plenty of these!
I'll start with a recent one, from last year's Thanksgiving when I ignored the warning voice in my head that said never, EVER use the self clean on your oven right before you are going to need it. I have a beautifully engineered awesome double Miele oven and I made that mistake and ran the self clean -- fortunately only on the top half of the oven the weekend before Thanksgiving. It took me over an hour before I realized nothing in the stuffed upper part of the oven was reheating. Dinner was a bit late that year. MORE WINE.
Speaking of, there was the time I decide to do a lovely caramelized pear salad as a first course. This was when I learned that I, at least, should never drink and caramelize sugar at the same time.
And then there was the time the Labrador ate the Buche de Noel.
When I hosted a Thanksgiving in Romania in the 1990s, we did get a turkey off a truck hijacked by Russians (could not find extra silverware, anywhere, however). Romanian half-sized ovens only had two settings, big flame and little flame, and no window or light in the door so you can't monitor the internal temperature in the oven with the thermometer you ask for someone to pick up for you when they go to Germany for the weekend. So I cooked a turkey with a flashlight and constant open and shutting of the oven door over 3 hours.
And then there was the time a possum got into my pot-a-feu and the racoons ate my Christmas cookies.
Next?
No, no, no, she insists. She has, at least, realized that a frozen turkey will take a week to thaw in the refrigerator but I do wonder if she's really thought about those inevitable space issues when the turkey comes out and has to sit while you 1) make gravy 2) make mashed potatoes; 3) wait for the stuffing to hit adequate internal temperatures in the now vacated oven to cook the egg in it so you don't inadvertently make everyone sick (or used pastuerized egg product or leave egg out). Oh sweet child of summer, you have no idea what you are in for and really you should take the help offered.
Correllian_sugar in the December meme prompt (and spaces still open!) got all apologetic about asking for cooking successes as well as failures but, in fact, I've got a million of woops stories and I'm really excited to share them. My personal favorite, involving a horse and an exploding sweet potato casserole, I shall save for December. But, in the meantime, I invite you all to share in comments cooking, hosting, travel holiday disasters. And econopodder and knitress I'm looking at you to share some as you've been at my house for plenty of these!
I'll start with a recent one, from last year's Thanksgiving when I ignored the warning voice in my head that said never, EVER use the self clean on your oven right before you are going to need it. I have a beautifully engineered awesome double Miele oven and I made that mistake and ran the self clean -- fortunately only on the top half of the oven the weekend before Thanksgiving. It took me over an hour before I realized nothing in the stuffed upper part of the oven was reheating. Dinner was a bit late that year. MORE WINE.
Speaking of, there was the time I decide to do a lovely caramelized pear salad as a first course. This was when I learned that I, at least, should never drink and caramelize sugar at the same time.
And then there was the time the Labrador ate the Buche de Noel.
When I hosted a Thanksgiving in Romania in the 1990s, we did get a turkey off a truck hijacked by Russians (could not find extra silverware, anywhere, however). Romanian half-sized ovens only had two settings, big flame and little flame, and no window or light in the door so you can't monitor the internal temperature in the oven with the thermometer you ask for someone to pick up for you when they go to Germany for the weekend. So I cooked a turkey with a flashlight and constant open and shutting of the oven door over 3 hours.
And then there was the time a possum got into my pot-a-feu and the racoons ate my Christmas cookies.
Next?
no subject
head first in the garbage, oh yes. One lab of ours, after a party, broke into the pantry and ate an entire bag of Doritos, a loaf of bread and a potato. The other Lab, rather than gorging, spent the entire time trying to (and eventually succeeded)in unscrewing the lid on the peanut butter jar. The top half of the jar was licked completely clean and there were globs of peanut butter at the bottom. SO CLOSE AND YET SO FAR.
no subject
When I came back an hour later, the butter was gone. I found it in the golden retriever's crate. With two dents in it, where she had carried it, but it was too frozen for her to eat. ;-) I ended up carving the indents out, and making the cake with it anyway, after I'd unwrapped the waxed paper.
That dog was sneaky, but nowhere near as determined as the current GR (we call her the Diva), who stole a leg of lamb off the counter at Easter dinner, and took a swipe of ice cream off the spoon as I was serving out my mother's birthday cake. She's the very definition of incorrigible.
no subject
no subject
I'm still amazed at the ice cream, though: the spoon of ice cream was IN MY HAND, heading for Mom's plate, and she jumped up and went for it.
This is the dog who, in three days of rally obedience trials, was (Day 1) excused from the ring for peeing; (Day 2) got a perfect score; (Day 3) won first place. She's entirely unpredictable.
no subject
Oh dogs.