I have to.
It's practically obligatory, right?
Yes, I cooked. I boiled rice for the first time in my life. I do actually cook, I swear. But, truth be known, I do take shortcuts. I buy those pre-cooked packets of rice from Trader Joe's and other little time-saving, effort-saving tricks. I forced myself to do it all right, from scratch, and all in the name of the BIG DAY. It was something I needed to accomplish as a woman...as an adult...and because my mother wasn't doing it.
Thanksgiving One in Brooklyn:
I contributed my amateur culinary skills to----
1) Roasted brussel sprouts with baked granny smith apples, toasted pecans and almonds, and gorgonzola with rosemary and thyme
2) Wild rice and butternut squash with caramelized red and yellow onions, topped off with toasted sunflower seeds
Virtual round of applause for this girl and ALLLLLLL of the others who not only attempted to whip up something in the name of togetherness with friends and/or family, but those who also succeeded.
Thanksgiving Two in Washington Heights:
Let's just throw the truth out there and admit that I consumed more food than any one human should. It was gross, really. I felt so stuffed that I thought I was going to pop out of my pantyhose, but I just couldn't refrain from continuing on. Pain and pleasure, friends. It was a classic case of so wrong it was right, and yes, it hurt so good.
Bottom Line, slapped on a wall: