This year I am finally learning the beauty of leftovers. I have, for way too long, felt that each meal needed to prepared fresh. Now, I’ve begun cooking up a big something on Sundays that we can eat for a large portion of the week. It has been working beautifully.
On Thursday, I am hosting Thanksgiving dinner. This is my first time hosting a large meal since moving to Manchester. In Warren, I entertained all the time. I had a large country kitchen, double ovens, and, what felt like, miles of counter space. My new kitchen is beautiful, but not so large. I have only one oven. So, I am cooking all week and refrigerating my creations so I can simply reheat them on the big day.
Yesterday I made the cranberry sauce, from Bon Appetite, and my celebrated squash soup. They are sitting in my fridge wrapped and ready. Today, I came home from worked, peeled about a bazillion baby onions and cooked them in a ruby port reduction, another recipe pilfered from Bon Appetite. The plan for tomorrow is to tackle a rice stuffing, Casey’s grandfather is a celiac so we needed an alternative to a traditional bread stuffing. Of course, I will do a traditional bread stuffing too because, to me, its the best part of Thanksgiving.
I’ve never done things this way. In my domestic fantasies, I imagine myself, cool, calm, and collected, on Thanksgiving day. I have nothing to worry about except for mashed potatoes, gravy, and a magnificent golden bird. I can sit, sipping a glass or four of wine, and enjoy the company of my guests. The chopping, dicing, and mixing are done and I am the picture of feminine grace. I’ll let you all know how fantasy and reality mix.