endless rumors
THEY CAME, THEY SAT, THEY ATE TURKEY, THEY DID NOT COMPLAIN TOO MUCH
Hey fuckers it’s the holidays! Like, officially. The Christmas tree is up, the Bears have about the record we expected, Thanksgiving is done. It was my year to host and we had 11, was going to be 12 but one of the cousins literally missed the bus (from Madison, Wisconsin, so kind of a big deal). My vegan stuffing (to accommodate a different cousin) was the only stuffing I made and it was actually really good. Even if you’re not the biggest mushroom fan—which I am not—if you cook mushrooms hot enough, long enough, and in enough olive oil, they sort of turn into sausage? I am being entirely serious.
We also made mashed potatoes, vegan and not; turkey* (not vegan, although in life perhaps she was); a Field Roast nut roll/fake meat thing (mehhhhh); a wild rice salad that turned out only okay; a sweet potato, peanut butter, and arugula salad that I LOVED but maybe I was the only one, judging by how many times I ate the leftovers; and lots and lots of roasted root vegetables.** Other people brought snacks, pie, and wine. Much wine.
*The fancy Montessori turkey again. It was fine. LT cooked up the heart and chopped it into small pieces for the cats. Rocko ate maybe one bite, Lola was not the least bit interested, but Murphy LOVES HIM SOME TURKEY HEART.
**The Vegetable Tale: When I did my big Thanksgiving shopping trip the Tuesday before, the cashier had trouble with some of my root vegetables. She zoomed past carrots and sweet potatoes and even parsnips with no problem, but stopped dead on my rutabaga.
Cashier [angry]: What is this?
Me [so very friendly! Thanksgiving spirit!]: That’s a rutabaga!
C [angry look, scanning laminated page for rutabaga code]: Hmmmph.
Me [friendly! Sorry for the inconvenience!]: Yeah, Thanksgiving…you know…all the oddball vegetables come out to play!
C [angrily]: Sure seems that way.
I know it is no fun to work a grocery store near Thanksgiving, but do not blame the rutabaga! Despite the very rude Wikipedia entry that says rutabagas were once considered a “food of last resort,” they are very tasty roasted with olive oil and salt. (Well, what isn’t.) Plus you can carve them!
I lugged all my heavy groceries (including the poor scorned rutabagas) home and had to leave a few bags out on the patio while I unlocked, got in the door, turned off the burglar alarm, etc—maybe they sat out there for two minutes at the very most. When I came back out for retrieval there was already a squirrel approaching one of the bags. Chicago squirrels do NOT sleep on potential free food.
Anyway, Thanksgiving is finished. No more big-deal hosting for me, other than my immediate family for Christmas Day (homemade ravioli, presents) and extremely chill friends for New Year’s Eve (cheese cheese cheese wine wine wine). I have been trying to get more in the holiday spirit but it is somewhat slow going because so many holiday things are just…irritating. Aaron and I watched one episode of this rather terrible competitive gift wrapping (how is that even a thing?) show. SUCH CRINGE. One of the contestants received a challenge to wrap a bicycle (okay, fair, sounds difficult) and he said—and I quote—”My theme is going to be a bicycle ride down Candy Cane Lane.” Which, shut the hell up. That is not a “theme” nor a trope nor a motif. No one on the planet, when asked to name Christmas-y things, would come up with “a bicycle ride down Candy Cane Lane.” You made that up inside your deranged head, gift-wrap guy. I don’t know why it made me so angry but it seriously set me back like five steps in the annual holiday-spirit game of Chutes and Ladders. Now I am waiting on a lucky spin.
—mimi smartypants is a commercially important species of palaemonid freshwater prawn.