Now I’m too prompt. Today I cooked Thanksgiving Dinner, as such, for Matt and me. He’s back at his home and back at his job and he is happy. I invited a few waifs and strays but one has vowed never to go inside a home until the All Clear. Another has a place with her family (by train), and a third is driving out of town for a rural celebration. Lovely weather for that . So Matt and I were the waifs and strays.
I fussed over our dinner as if I were cooking for a dozen and and not just the two of us. I didn’t cook a whole turkey, just broiled a turkey breast (marinated overnight in white wine and oil, seasoned , and with my own fresh rosemary minced in). I made a mushroom risotto, and a sheet pan of sweet potato chunks and halved Brussels sprouts roasted in olive oil and maple syrup. I bought a pumpkin pie and shook a can of real whipped cream 20 times before I squirted the pie. Pretty easy but I’m tired.
I will probably never cook a turkey again.