Photograph by Kathleen Moriarty

This is a souvenir of Will on Fire Island. Kathleen, who used the picture for this year’s desk calendar, confesses to fiddling “very slightly” with the arrangement of the toys, but she insists that they’re lined up as Will put them there. There’s a deadpan quality to the blue car that makes me wonder if Johnny Depp or Philip Seymour Hoffman is going to get out of it for a closer look at whatever has captured the attention of the dinosaurs.

I don’t know how long it has been since my last Thanksgiving — one cooked by me. In some ways, it is just a dinner party like any other, with old friends and family and no need to impress. On the other hand, you should see the turkey pieces in the crisper, covered with ice. They are very large. I have never cut up a turkey before, much less a seventeen-pound behemoth. I will save the space below for an account of the fricassee that I hope to enjoy this afternoon. (I gather from James Beard’s American Cookery that I can call the dish a turkey fricassee.)

The soup is all but finished (eggs and cream at the last minute, for “enrichment”). The stuffing’s half-made, needed only to be tossed with croutons and shoved in the oven. Wild rice, sweet potatoes, and Brussels sprouts will start keeping me busy at about 1:30. By then, the turkey will have been browned and prepared for braising. At three, I’ll set the table. Oh, and cranberries. I suppose I ought to do them sooner rather than later, so that they’ll be cool.

Everything is under control: I am official ready (although not prepared) for catastrophe.

***

Aside from a slight catastrophe, which Ray Soleil dealt with swiftly (my bad, though), the evening was warm and delightful, and braising is definitely the way to go with turkey. More anon.

Drop me a line at rjk@dailyblague.com
This entry was posted on Thursday, November 22nd, 2012 at 9:10 am.