Microblog Monday Food snobby

And now for something completely different.
This is not a political rant.
This is not something about adoption.

This--is about food.

I'm making Thanksgiving dinner this year.

I've been watching a lot of food network. Reading a lot of Pinterest. and I have a rant.

I am tired of food snobbiness when it comes to home cooking. 

I really am.

It's so off the cuff. "What like you're going to make franks in blankets for an appetizer?" Since it's on a web page I can't actually see the wrinkled nose or the "ewww" look that I saw every day in high school. It's implied though.
Yes. Yes I am. Moreover, if I didn't, there would be a revolt at my house by my husband, my daughter, and my father. I think that my dad would rather be without the turkey than the hot dogs in blankets.

Shall I continue? Of course.

I'm also serving sweet potato kugel (pudding)--yep, there will be marshmallows on top.
I'm also serving the green bean casserole. With canned cream of mushroom soup because I've never tasted anything better that it didn't take me for f**king ever to make.
So many articles I've read have had their guns blazing for these simple recipes you'd think that they were accused of sexual harassment. To be fair one article had a variation on the sweet potato pudding for people who aren't hosting over eight people and I plan to try that on a night when I'm not hosting so many people.

You know what? The last time I made this dinner there were hardly any leftovers. You know why? Because my guests ate those dishes that all of a sudden people are saying "ewww." You know why these are "classics"? Because people eat them and enjoy them.

If you're going to a fancy restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner and you don't want these dishes, don't order them. If you've been invited to a person's home, don't eat what you don't want to eat. Offer to bring something to serve. But that "ewww" look? That "this isn't fancy enough" sniff? That's uncivil and antithetic to what this holiday is about.

Be thankful you have a relative or friend who invited you to their home.
Be thankful that you are fed enough that you can decide what you want to eat or don't want to eat.
Be thankful that you're in a warm place.

Unless a rat crawls out of the turkey and bites you on your nose, say to your host, "Thank you, what a lovely dinner."

If a rat crawls out of the turkey---well tell about it!

Wishing you a happy thanksgiving with plentiful, good food.
Wishing you a happy thanksgiving with no awkward political conversations.
Wishing you enough in your life that gratitude is your default position.

Happy Thanksgiving.

P.S. What would your family have a fit about if it wasn't on the Thanksgiving table.

Dear new owners of the house where I grew up

It's happened.

An offer has come on the house where I grew up. It has been accepted an a closing date has been set.

I want to beg Dad not to sell it.
I want to have it sold already.

But it is the house where I grew up.  I want to write a letter to the new owners and this is what I think it will say.

Dear new owners.

I grew up in this house. My earliest memories were of sliding down the stairs on my butt. Allow me to let you know some things about it.

The rungs on the bannister look wider than they are. Ask my brother. He got his head stuck between them. Mom called the fire department and expected them to cut through the bars, instead they poured a massive amount of cooking oil on his head. To the kids growing up--don't try it, it really sucks.

When you are in the basement, the house creaks. You will swear on a stack of bibles that there is someone else in the house. Nope. That's just the way it is.

My bedroom, the one that's pink now, is the warmest room in the winter and the coolest room in the summer. Yeah, you might like to have the big bedroom with the bathroom attached as the master bedroom--but if you are as sensitive to temperature as I am, take my room. It's good.

This house knew love. The kind that lasts lifetimes. My parents were the only owners of the house and they were married nearly 65 years. 54 of them were spent in this house. My oldest sister grew from toddler to adult in this house. My brother and I grew from newborns to adult in this house. This is the house where we hung out as teenagers, we held parties, and kissed our boyfriends (okay my boyfriends) at the front door. Grandchildren came to play in this house. The step that leads to the den from the stairs is called the evil step because every one of the grandchildren took a header on it. But afterwards they learned. This house rang with the laughter of a family with a good sense of humor. Yes this house knew tears, but when we wept, we didn't weep alone as the spirits of love remembered kept us company.

This is also the house where my mother died. I'm not telling you that to scare you or make this morbid. That is why my father is selling it, because when I come to the house I expect to see my mother in the kitchen, or coming up from the office in the basement, and it still hurts that she won't. We had a wonderful time in this house, and now it is your turn.

I have wishes for you.
May you make the house ring with laughter. The acoustics are such that if someone is laughing in the den, you can hear them upstairs.
May your children discover that if you talk about them in the basement office they can hear you in my room (the pink one).
May you have many meals where both ovens are used.
May there be a blackout--just cold enough that you sleep in front of the fireplace. I remember those nights of my childhood very well.
Fill this house with as much kindness, arguments, laughter, shouting, and love that we did.  It's a tall order but we are wishing that a family enjoys this house as much as we did.

Gd bless.

(and, if you find a wedding ring in the corners of the house, please return it to me. It was my mother's.)

Microblog Monday--What is missing from my table

Someone just asked me for my mom's noodle kugel recipe.

I have to ask one of my nieces about it. Why? I loved most of the stuff mom made, but this was an exception. It wasn't a favorite. (Noodles should be savory, not sweet in my opinion.)

Well the person who asked was horrified. How on earth did I have Thanksgiving or Rosh Hashanah without mom's noodle kugel. It took quite a lot for me not to say, "We're having a lot more trouble dealing without having mom there, much less the kugel." I didn't.

I am wondering though, what is missing from our Thanksgiving--food wise, I mean.

Here is my menu.

Turkey
Gravy
Corn casserole
Dressing (made from Challah in the crockpot)
Green Bean Casserole
Roasted Veggies
Salad
Mashed potatoes
Sweet Potato casserole (for the four people who want it. but one of those is me so...)

What do others serve?

Microblog Monday: Facets

Well the Will It Grill Party went off amazingly. The surprise Will It Grill was Starbursts.  Seriously, next time you grill out, take a skewer, put a Starburst on it and grill it. OH WOW!!!!

Lotus liked the party.

Kinda. 

Well she liked having her cousin and friends here to play with. Until they started trying to share her toys and then she didn't.

At one point she seemed to have--ENOUGH. She went to her room, got out Little Lambie. (A small version of the Doc McStuffins stuffed animal) and came over to me. I was talking to some people but I saw her with Little Lambie who she had specifically put away so no one else would play with him and I picked her up. Found that her pull-up was full and went to change her so we were alone.

I changed her and she hugged me and said

"I want my mommy."

I wasn't too clear on what she meant. Did she mean me? But I was right here. Did she mean China Mommy? She hasn't yet asked for her but that could be it.

"I'm right here hon."

She gave a non-verbal kind of thing. Then said it again. "I want my mommy."

I stroked her face so she met my eyes.

"Aren't I mommy?"

"You're Pamela."

I got it then.

She was seeing a different side of me. Mommy, as she knew it was 100% engaged in Lotus. Lotus came first in every single thing.  But we had a party going on. There were around 16 people there and kids running around and I was hostessing.  (Is that a verb? It should be.)

She liked having her cousins and the people nearby but she was done right now and wanted her mommy. So I picked her up, got her some food, and held her in my arms while she ate some potato chips and gave me some. As if Lotus was a shield no one came and talked to me, so we were utterly focused on each other. I got hugs and kisses and giggles. Then her cousin came over and said "Come ON!" and Lotus hopped off my lap and ran after her---giggling. I went back to other guests.

It wasn't the first--by any measure--party we have had since Lotus had been home. Talking to D about it, he said that she needs to see that I am a complete person. I do other things besides be Mommy. I agree.

How do other parents resolve the many aspects of themselves into their parenting?

Microblog Mondays

I love to entertain.

I love having people over and cooking for them.  I love it.

This weekend we are having my second "Will It Grill?" Party.  Well, technically it is my third, but everyone got sick and NJ transit coughed and died for the first one.

Will it Grill is simple.

I supply the burgers and dogs.
People coming supply other things to see if they taste good on the grill.

Last year people brought corn and asparagus.  We were surprised to learn that grilled pineapple tasted amazing!!!!!!

This year people are bringing zucchini and salads and someone said a pizza crust.

So other folks...what do you grill?