Thoughts on Food and Thanksgiving - Talking Turkey

This crazy Christmas consumer culture doesn't allow for one's turkey dinner to exit (requisite poop reference right up front) before it bombards us with Black Friday bargains. I actually went to the mall on Friday afternoon and the lines were not too long--but I was still exhausted and tryptophanned-out from a second go at the thanksgiving feast and only bought two small Yankee candles and a pair of Banana Republic argyle socks for my son-in-law's stocking. (I get him a pair every year, so no big deal if he happens to read this!)

Today, after a third attempt at finishing our cooking-for-12-marathon leftovers, I am still feeling stretched out and surprisingly hungry, but I can't stomach the thought of more turkey or mashed potatoes. The husband bought a long hickory smoked beef summer sausage at Costco--and that is calling to me from that great icebox which is our garage. I do not want to find it hidden in the tool chest in July, like I did one year! I also went to the store today for eggs and milk and found a loaf of Rothbury Farms apple fritter bread--which I find irresistible. What insanity led someone to market this? I love apple fritters! You are warned. Don't even look for this bread.

Anyway, Marissa and I cooked for a solid six hours Thursday afternoon and our men said everything was the best they had ever tasted. We did not spare any butter or cream or brown sugar or booze. But with only one oven, it was challenging, even hectic at the end--getting all the food hot and ready at the same time!

We have upgraded the green bean casserole as much as we can and added some dijon-braised brussel sprouts (with white wine and heavy cream) that ate like sauced candy to the traditional fare. The sweet potato crunch is really a dessert. A little garlic boursin spiked the mashed potatoes and new this year were hot baked rolls (Rhode's frozen) which intensified the single oven situation.

They look just as good as my mother's homemade!

We waited a while for the pie which Marissa had made ahead and spiked with rum, but she bought a Pillsbury crust instead of making last year's boozey vodka crust!

It really was a good meal and worth doing once a year. And it inspired a grateful spirit.

I took a couple of hurried photos that won't win any awards, but I include them so I will remember one day how much we all loved Big Food back in the day when we still had appetites.

This year's turkey got brown, but was a little overcooked in a Reynold's bag which somehow developed a hole.

Poor turkey's wing fell off
I actually ate the back-up bird--Butterball turkey breast slow-cooked in the crock pot, which was more moist and tasty.

Sweet Potato Crunch (Eet Smakeljk)

Dijon-braised brussel sprouts inspired by Smitten Kitchen

Thanksgiving Brunch:

Spinach Quiche inspired by Smitten Kitchen
(Arby's wine glasses contained cranberry juice and diet ginger ale)

Baked French Toast inspired by Paula Deen, served with maple syrup

Costco croissants, salmon and boursin

A Suddenly Snowy Sunday (and a Big Fantasy Football Win!)

A little snow and cold changes everything--overnight. The first thing I did this morning on the way to the coffeepot was to consult our indoor-outdoor thermometer: 21 degrees F. Brrr.

Our local meteorologist's blog claims that this has been the coldest November in a decade or so here in West Michigan, after years of warmer falls and later snows. This dusting of snow will melt next week according to projections, but it surely feels like OLD MAN WINTER is upon us. I am not yet ready for him.

 I am glad I am not a football game attendee. I watched a little football on a 52-inch screen from the cozy comfort of my couch. (It looks like I, with my "C-" draft report card took out our fantasy football league's "A" report card holder. I was the highest scorer today in our league of 12 and will probably move into 2nd or 3rd place. I am also at the top of the league pick'em. And there is money involved! I had to grab a brand new wide receiver this week to cover a bye. He was projected at 4.35 fantasy points and managed 16.40. Lucky, lucky me.

So anyway, until my blood thickens (thins?) I cranked up the gas fireplace stove in the cold, old aluminum-frame windowed sun room. I unpacked the Sunbeam heated throw that I bought yesterday. I snuggled in.

Last week's rain and wind storm once again took out the electric--but only for a couple of hours. A few people I know went without for days--showering at the health club, sleeping on the floor at the parent's condo, etc.

With our new furnace, new gas stove, new electric blanket and now a new heated throw, I plan to stay toasty all winter. If the electric goes out, I will toast in front of the gas stove which was installed when our furnace failed this past New Year's Day.

The big Husqvarna makes piles, but doesn't bag them.

But I am not finished with the leaves, I protest! Our honey locust tree once again dropped at least 30 bushels of pods--those are mostly now at the yard waste dump. Tomorrow I want to stay indoors--but I need to bundle up and pack up some bags of leaves for a final Tuesday morning pickup. I scavenged 10 free bags at the dump last week (worth $25) so I plan to put them all out on the street.

Honey locust pods land everywhere--many in the gutters.

 I have crazy looking tubers and rhizomes drying in the sun room. It is too cold for them in the garage and they need to dry for a week or so before they are packed away in boxes of peat moss in my aunt's root cellar.

The E-gifted azalea is once again beginning to bloom for Thanksgiving. I really need a greenhouse here!

Hymn board flanked by geranium and azalea

I see a low of 16 degrees F for Thursday. Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Stay warm and drive safely.

Just Get Me to the Church On Time

We tried to fit in too much, not remembering that traffic can be a bit of a nightmare in a large city like Chicago.

fruit from Michigan!

Last weekend, after a noisy night on the 12th floor of the Aloft hotel (a fire station was way too near) we had Saturday breakfast at the nearby XOCO. I decided to order something authentic rather than say, eggs and bacon. I don't know what the others ordered, but I think my daughter R had something with "pork belly." I ordered my entree with no beans--I cannot manage beans for breakfast, and certainly not before a wedding. (That is as close as I am going to get--in this post about a lovely old (prudish) grandma and a lovely wedding--to the (requisite reference to) things that belong in the bathroom--or in my lawn.)

The red tomato salsa stuff at the base of my entree was fresh and delicious. I also shared a delicious butternut squash muffin. I took just one quick food photo!

Heuvos Rancheros at XOCO 

After breakfast we got our wedding clothes together and left downtown Chicago for suburban Downers Grove. Not having yet celebrated Grandma Rose's October 95th birthday with her, we were scheduled to take her to lunch and then get her to the wedding of her granddaughter on time. Things did not go well. We missed an expressway exit that might have provided a faster route and were assaulted with seemingly endless un-timed red lights. We were running late.

We told Grandma to stay in her room and we would come for her.

Grandma was ready and waiting by the entry. I did not want to help her for fear of being responsible for contributing to a fall, but I jumped out to help her into the front seat.

We hurried to the nearest restaurant, Rock Bottom Brewery. I had lunch there before Grandpa's funeral, just two years ago. There was an abnormally large curb looming ahead in our path between the car and the restaurant. Step up, Grandma! Oops! (Can't lift her leg that high). Slow motion...sinking to the sidewalk...her son holding on to her one good arm. She is down. Shocked. Seems okay. Whew. Our second worst nightmare after traffic--allowing the grandma to fall!

Then we started ordering everything on the menu we thought she might enjoy and eat easily, including mashed potatoes--after she said she wasn't hungry. Neither were we. But here we were for lunch. The husband started reading stuff off the menu. Do you like calamari? I snorted at the ridiculousness of that suggestion. I remember that the hot spinach dip was as delicious as it usually is when well made. Lots of doggie boxes were loaded into our trunk.

Then back to the rest home. Two long black skirts to try--the first one was falling off her hips. She has become so petite, with such a tiny waist! I helped her with her shoes, fastened her necklace. She grabbed some earrings from on top of the dresser. The matching ones were nowhere to be found, likely put in a safe place for the wedding!

We are running late. Grandma couldn't find her comb. I had one. Get Grandma back in the car--moving slowly. Please, no falling! No time to fill up with gas. Third nightmare: we think there is enough gas to get to the church.

Oh Oh. Accident on the Eisenhower? And no kids with smart phones in the car. What shall we do? Stay on the expressway and hope. Grandma seems oblivious to the problem, but I tell the husband to be quiet and not upset her. She remarks about how long it has been since she has seen the beautiful downtown skyline.

We finally merged unto the Kennedy from the Eisenhower and are still not moving well in traffic. Where is everyone going on a Saturday afternoon? Then we have only 4 miles left on the gas gauge indicator, but we think we can see the church steeple from the exit!

 I need to help Grandma up the steps of the church--oh please, no falling. With only 5 minutes to spare (and then the wedding began about 15 minutes late) I handed off the grandma to the father of the bride--she needed a corsage and to get ready for her special walk down the aisle. I said "She's all yours." Whew! I looked apologetic and mumbled something about traffic. He looked upset that we hadn't arrived the requested half-hour early.

The wedding was beautiful and proceeded without a hitch as far as I could tell: nine attendants, the niece a beautiful bride. A professional took 50 photos of the unity candle-lighting alone. I behaved myself and left my camera in my purse. Teared up just a little.

After the wedding we still had an empty gas tank. We now had the kids with the smart phones with us, but they don't exactly have an app for nearest gas. We were now down to 2 miles left, with more busy traffic and no gas station in sight.

We were in wedding clothes--but surely within walking distance of something. Nightmare scenarios were playing out in my mind.

I began breathing my thoughts upward with lots of please help us. Stat.

We got in the wrong lane, merged right with a wave, over the overpass, turned left and up a block or so a big Costco came into view--the husband's favorite gas and mashed potato store!

He filled the tank to a greater capacity then the owner's manual indicated.

We were saved. Whew.

We had about 3 hours to kill before the reception at Maggiano's Little Italy, conveniently located right across the street from our Aloft hotel.

 I wondered. Will there be mashed potatoes at the Italian restaurant? Or just pasta? Any comfort food sounded good. That and an open bar...

Fresh flowers at XOCO

Wedding Weekend in the City

A weekend wedding trip to Chicago started with a bowling party! This is a 4-lane facility with real people setting up the pins.

 My husband's family liked to go bowling over the Thanksgiving holiday back in the day, so this is sort of an old November family tradition.

Finding our first dinner venue too busy, we arrived earlier than our assigned time of 8:00 PM and enjoyed good old fashioned bowling food: beer, burgers, fries, fish and chips. And nachos:

The menu at Southport Lanes claims Craft Beer, Craft Food and Craft Bowling. We were all hungry and enjoyed the heavy fare that weighed down our stomachs as we attempted to roll those heavy balls down the two lanes which had been reserved for our group of 9.

The elder statesman of the group volunteered to finger a pencil rather than a ball. I played one line and managed to break a hundred, which not everyone did--two strikes helped. I attempted to tip the pin boys by putting a dollar in the thumb hole, as suggested by a sign on the wall, but our pin-setter did not take it, so after 3 rolls I pulled it back out. He seemed to knock down a few pins with his stick for the younger and prettier in our group.

This sort of bowling is certainly a throwback to a simpler un-mechanized time and the balls occasionally were thrown back, rolling up the lane for a third shot at any missed pins.

The whole evening was an adventure in experiencing an old Schlitz brewery building from around 1900 now occupied by a noisy crowd of the young and thirsty. Everybody in our group was disappointed in their inability to score well in this simple old game, but had had enough beer so they didn't care too much.

The bathrooms were upstairs and old-fashioned as well. A simple wooden shelf with door stoppers provided a unique way to hold the toilet paper--something I have a propensity to notice, even as I manage to incorporate a point of reference for "poop" in each post!

The website claims that the upstairs rooms were used for brothel purposes back in the day.


More wedding weekend events coming...

Trees in Space - A Walk in a Michigan Park

Size matters to me. No, it's not what you're thinking! But really, when is size of no importance?

I live in Michigan, not in Texas, but even here, bigger is perceived to be better.

I have not traveled the whole world, but the few places I have visited around the world have not measured up, size-wise, to what I have enjoyed in this country. The husband has traveled to the land of our ancestors, the Dutch, a few times and seen the inside dimensions of homes there as well as the density of homes in the cities. The scale of everything is just smaller. I have visited homes in Japan--smaller scale there, too. The husband has been to China a few times and even once joined the hordes of cyclists on the streets of Beijing--a very large Dutchman flanked by thousands of locals going about their lives. I wish I had a video of that scene! Size is at issue, when so many people live in the cities.

Here in Michigan we may build as large as we can afford--the space is available.

I got used to wide spaces early in life. I lived on many acres on a farm--a farm with large cornfields and pasture lands and even a river running through it. When I traveled across my home state of South Dakota, through the prairie lands, or across Iowa farm lands, what I saw and became accustomed to was vast amounts of great open spaces.

If you have ever been "up north" in Michigan, you might wonder why anyone would be concerned about saving a tree.

Another natural resource we enjoy here in Michigan is water--lots of it. We have that enormous lake, which I reference all the time. So many completely irrigated golf courses: space and water required. We pay our fair share for the use of water and sewer, but it is not restricted.

When we moved  from Illinois to Michigan with our children in the early 90's we noticed the trees--we have more trees here. Beautiful trees. Trees that love all that water.

And right now those trees are putting on their fall show.

I was reminded again of trees in large spaces (thus my blog title, reminiscent of that old Muppets bit, Pigs in Space) last week when I was traveling near Millenium Park (the largest urban park in West Michigan). The weather was a bit windy and 60-ish but the clouds were changing from dark and stormy to bright. I decided to walk around a bit and snap a few shots, although I was not dressed for the weather.

The colors in the park were muted under cloudy skies But it was the sky that I was trying to capture--the sky unimpeded by tall building or electric wires--even though photos never do the sky justice.

My old Mitsubishi in an empty parking lot

There were a handful of couples walking in the park, but the whole beautiful space was basically all mine.

A view of the back end of beach area that was gated and closed

The colorful playground looked sadly empty--a reminder that the warm play days of summer are long gone.

So much space. So many trees. Such cool clouds--with a tiny tease of blue.

Everything suggests emptiness and space. It is clean, lush and beautiful. It is not a dog park--no looking out for where you step. (requisite poop reference)

Pristine fountain with cool drinking water

Many of the trees in this park are still young. What a glorious place this will continue to be with adequate funding. This is Michigan. Yes! Michigan.

I hope you are blessed, where ever you live, with oceans or mountains or skyscrapers or even a backyard garden--or just one lovely tree. There is enough beauty to be found in the world to go around. In some places you just have to look for it in slightly smaller spaces.

Word Ban: Foodie?

Oh No. Do I need to ban another word I like to use? This is copied from Urban Dictionary:

foodie

A dumbed-down term used by corporate marketing forces to infantilize and increase consumerism in an increasingly simple-minded American magazine reading audience. The addition of the long "e" sound on the end of a common word is used to create the sensation of being part of a group in isolationist urban society, while also feminizing the term to subconsciously foster submission to ever-present market sources.

Though the terms "gastronome" and "epicure" define the same thing, i.e. a person who enjoys food for pleasure, these words are perceived by the modern American consumer as elitist due to their latin root forms and polysyllabic pronunciations.

Also "foody"

I enjoy "food for pleasure." Until I find a better word, I'd have to go with gastronome, even though things that begin with gas (of course food also ends up as gas or poop) or have the same root as gastric don't sound like anything I want to associate with pleasurable dining.

Can anybody suggest an alternative?  Is foodavore a word?

The Year of the Lawn

My lawn today

After last year's record setting summer heat wave and drought, this was a year for lawn recovery. So I went for broke. I finally succumbed to all the years of suggestions that what I really need is an aeration. Oh yeah, I already limed, grubbed and fall fertilized--and dragged hoses around all summer.

So today my lawn service finally came to do a job that I could not do myself. Two big noisy machines dug up plugs, depositing them on the surface. Thousands of little black soil turds now litter my lawn. It looks like all the neighborhood animals gathered this morning for a pooping convention. (requisite poop reference)

(A poop convention is not that novel an idea to me. Years ago Dave Barry (if memory serves) had a column about how a dog's fun is sniffing all the offerings left by his friends to find out what's up in the neighborhood. It's a dog's version of reading the daily newspaper!)

I opted for no re-seeding which would have been even pricier. I will throw a little seed over the worst areas, although it is probably too late in the year for germination.

 I was told that golf courses now aerate multiple times a year and don't have to fertilize as much. That's sounds like a good trade.

After paying this bill I may not be able to go out to eat this month or buy any new fall clothes. So if my lawn looks well-dressed and I do not, well, know that this is a choice I have made.

Will my lawn be the best it can be next year? And then do I have to do this all over again?

How much is a lawn worth anyway? Anyone wanna guess what I paid to aerate about 6,000 square feet?

Another October Weekend in Florida

On the outside wall at The Ravenous Pig

If you are lucky, an October day in Michigan will afford sunny coolness and deep blue skies, setting off the brilliantly tinged foliage in our parks and along our streets, usually ushered in by a maple or two flaming out in red, followed by a spectacular rainbow of unfolding color, and concluding with the Japanese maples in November, which are so bright (sometimes in falling snow) that they make my eyes and also my camera lens blurry.

My maple - 11-10-11

But I also like Florida weather in October and I always try to spend a few days with my daughters in the Orlando area. This past weekend I took along a friend for a short visit. The color in West Michigan has not yet fully developed and the Florida temps were just beginning to moderate, so it was a pretty good trade. We enjoyed a few near perfect days and nights (if a little warm in the afternoon) while missing a few cooler sunny days here in Michigan..



In addition to looking forward to some good weather, I always look forward to new experiences with the unique Florida flora and fauna, as well as some fun food.

My little pink piggies on the farm

The first night we dined at the popular The Ravenous Pig. I have a long history with the pig. I played midwife as piglets were born on my childhood farm, once making a pet of one little porker for the summer. We always had our own pork in a basement freezer. As the little piggies grew and went to market, they supplied the "bread and butter" of our lives.

It surprises me sometimes that pork is still so popular. And bacon--oh my--has been popping up in ice cream and coffee and chocolate bars and even here in daughter R's bacon-infused bourbon cocktail--along with vanilla maple syrup, angostura orange and a strip of candied bacon! (The Ravenous Pig Old Fashioned):

I went girlie with a Gin and Jam cocktail which went down real easy.

We stayed local, taking in a busy Saturday morning in Winter Park, along with everyone and their pooches, enjoying the art festival, farmer's market and the perfect weather for dining on the street. We ate French pastries, bought tomatoes and sampled a row of olive oil and flavored balsamic vinegars--I thought the fig flavor was interesting, but found no bacon infusions...

Also local was a meandering (a newly favorited word which I am making into a noun) through  Harry P. Leu Gardens. The many varieties of palms, the prolific bamboo, the huge rose garden, the blooming gardenias...there was so much to see and smell. New to me was to take a guided tour through the historic home on the property where the Leu's lived, as well as other families, since the late 1800's.

I always respect private property and don't steal slips of things or fruit, but there was so much ripe fruit on the grounds in the citrus grove, with no one in the area. I finally was tempted, too. Feeling a bit like the one who is the source of all sin, our mother Eve, I tasted one tiny fruit and pocketed another--a sweet lime. I noticed at least three varieties of kumquats! My friend O and daughter E pilfered some other unusual fruit into their purses.

Sour Orange

The next day we used some of the juices to make a dressing for the spinach and feta salad. Below O and E are squeezing the stolen fruit and adding a little sugar. The juice might have worked for the bitters in a cocktail, but this was noon!

Blood orange on their hands?

We managed a delicious lunch on Saturday with leftovers, including pork and a blanched tomato relish with those fresh tomatoes from the farmer's market.

Tomato bread laced with Parmesan was also a hit.

Another photo, showing the Octoberfest beer, the dog, the pool, the pocket of our host (who was primarily glued to his computer screen--except for his excellent lomo cooking--while we had our girl fun), and the new teak table--recently stained to match the new fence:

Our tray was not quite as unusual as the charcuterie tray (below) from Thursday night's (Ravenous Pig) excursion into foodie heaven, but yet, fully satisfying.

Here is our shared tray, but I don't remember the names of all these fun foods:

I continued the pork thing at 4 Rivers Smokehouse on the afternoon of the second day, with a messy pig pork plate, sandwiched with coleslaw (like I was trying to save carbs or something) and smothered in their special sauce. After all the meandering in the gardens, I devoured it all, easily, without taking any photos. Messy Pig was tasty, but not photogenic.

Later that night we did our classic lomo al trappo (which is a beef tenderloin) in the chimenea. I have described that before and it was as good as ever, perfectly tender and bright red in the middle--and as usual, accompanied by lots of red wine (selected at Costco by my friend O) and enjoyed with crusty bread and steamed asparagus. A little taste of Costco's dark chocolate almond clusters and we were thoroughly sated.

One-eyed owl

We didn't have the time or budget to check out the food and wine festival at Epcot, but opted for another local attraction that I have wondered about for years, the Audubon Center for Birds of Prey. We happened to be there at the end of the day when it was not busy and felt privileged to view the big eagles and hawks and owls closeup, as they were carried on gloved arms to their night cages. (Not one of these birds pooped while being held.) We enjoyed a little history of the age and injuries of each bird and learned many other interesting bird facts.

Other activities included kayaking and hot-tubbing which I did not participate in, and a couple of Netflix flicks. All in all, a great weekend, thanks to our super hosts, who provided all the accommodations. Also a big thank you to daughter E, who provided most of the chauffeuring.

The last night, sharing the last bottle of red wine, the girls watched the sun go down on Florida:

Photo from dock taken with E's phone

(I thought I was pretty knowledgeable about plants, but there is a whole world of exotic beauty out there that I have no clue about. I will end with a few more photos from Leu Gardens.)

Equador Princess Tibouchin - took a photo of label!

I know this flower - Hibiscus!