The Thanksgiving cocktails (prosecco, Grand Marnier) that I enjoyed so much last year, this year gave me an immediate headache smack between the eyes. Why? In the night I woke up and thought, Angostura Bitters! I did not put in the 3 drops of bitters. Could they be an antidote? We will see.
We ate dinner at dinner time, not 3 or 4pm, so at that time, when the rest of country sat down to eat, I walked five deserted winter blocks to buy some sweet potatoes and Brussels sprouts. And corn flour. The cashiers were not sitting down to eat...Few souls on the street. A man with shopping bags, looking furtive, out alone on such a portentous day. Couples standing in doorways, waiting to be let in. From many windows golden light streaming, and inside, tables ready for a meal. Table cloths, plates, and people standing in kitchens. In one dining room a family at the table, the old lady with green hair, the middle aged son looking concerned and prodding a bowl with a fork, the old lady smiling happily. A man, her son, father, perhaps, of the middle aged man, turning up some music in a real record player. The store almost empty - two girls buying what I was. Brussels sprouts and sweet potato. Five young men prowling the aisles and conferring frequently.
On the walk back two pizzas being delivered to a smart front door. A woman sipping a glass of white wine on a stoop, keeping her smoking friend company. Two men in wheelchairs in the dark, under the rain-dripping porch of the nursing home. The restaurant on the corner closed, chairs on tables. Walking back up the stairs smelling roast marshmallows.
I made fluffy mustard sauce, from a printed email from my mother, stuck into the recipe book she made for me. It tastes better than the pig, even.
Ideas for leftover ham? Potted ham, bean and ham soup, ham-stuffed blintzes, ham and peas, ham sandwiches on thin bread with lots of butter (the best)...we will freeze most of it until we can think about it again.
Christina's corn bread recipe was very good. More like corn cake. Fluffy from the separated eggs. I will cut down a little on the sugar next time.
No space in me for apple pie, but plenty of space in the Frenchie. The cat preferred the cornbread.
Been and gone. Time to move on. Maybe a long walk on a cold Friday.