Happy Thanksgivingzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

I have to post pics and the rest of the story from NY. But I thought I'd show you my pretty pretty Thanksgiving table. When Nipper and I got married, he asked me if I was planning on opening a restaurant. I have lots of dishes. Lots of them. I have full sets, plus serving pieces of vintage Fiestaware, Jadite, Murano glass, Laura Ashley and Franciscan Desert Rose. The dishes I used today are just something I picked up at the Crate and Barrel outlet on the way to Palm Springs a few years ago. I think they were $4 a piece. They're the dishes I use everyday. We didn't register for china when we got married. Mostly because I have enough dishes to serve legions. I also thought having something so precious that we'd only eat on once a year, was just dumb. That reminds me to tell you guys someday about how I was engaged once when I was in my mid-twenties, to a man who was not Nipper Knapp, BIG MISTAKE, and we registered for $1200 a piece Meissen tea cups. LOL. Writing that sentence actually made me laugh out loud. Did my 25 year old brain think that the cup was going to make the tea, and pay my taxes?

We got back from NY at 9pm last night. My mother was kind enough to get up with Jack this morning so we could sleep until 7:30. Also because she gets up at 5:30a.m. anyway, you know, just because...

So I got up, and wandered on over to Bristol Farms around 11am, and bought a pre-stuffed, tied up 6lb turkey breast. Thank you very much. I've made 6 turkeys in my life. The first year I did it, I called my father crying with big orange rubber gloves on, convinced that they had not butchered it properly and the neck or SOMETHING was still in there. I kept shouting tearfully into the phone "THERE'S SOMETHING IN THERE!!!" As he laughed and shouted back "Just DO IT!" After that he made a point of sending me lots of pictures of deers he'd slaughtered and was in the process of bleeding out, or some other kind of post kill ritual in an effort to toughen me up. Too late dad, I am made of cotton candy and Wes Anderson movies.

After that I was not so squeamish about the whole cleaning it up business. But I was not going to do the whole cheese cloth and butter baste deal for hours and hours. So I cooked the other 6 turkeys in a bag. Don't tell Martha. But seriously, 2.5 hours, and I can walk away from it and cook all the sides, which are all anyone is interested in anyway.

Well this year, I didn't even want to do that. And I didn't want to clean the damn meat off the bones, or wrestle it in and out of the oven, or have guilt about throwing away ALL the turkey that my mother so carefully cut off the turkey after we each eat 4oz of it. I don't DO sandwiches. Not that kind anyway. Sue me. Potato salad? Never had it. Chicken salad? Are you kidding me? If it involves mayonnaise I'm not interested. Unless it's a b.l.t., in which case, I say, ok just a little, but only because the bible says I must.

This picture was taken during the 6.4 seconds Jack spent at the table

I got in late last night so I wouldn't have been able to thaw it anyway. My mom offered to make reservations somewhere, since everything has been so crazy, but I thought it would be easier and more relaxing to be home. Jack has been too good all week, and I didn't want to tempt fate, and have him set The Palm on fire on Thanksgiving day.

For sides, we had my friend Allie's sweet potato souffle with pecan crumble on top, my stepmother Kary's corn pudding, mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, baby romaine salad, wine, and a whole box of sweets from Babycakes in NY, that I carried home on the plane, because I'm a martyr.

So thankful for all of our good fortune, good health, good food. I'm a lucky duck.

I promise a new charitable organization post and the NY stuff before the end of the weekend. Now go back to your tryptophan coma, and wait for your in-laws to leave.