Stuffed

It was such a lovely day yesterday, both inside the house and out. We'd been having the drizzlies in Smallville for a few days, and yesterday it was cool, almost cold, and sunny. And to make it nicer, we slept in; Carlos usually gets up at 6AM and I follow at about 6:45, but yesterday it was nearly 9AM before we decided to greet the day. It.Was.Fantastic!

We had a simple breakfast while we discussed the battle plans for the day. Carlos was in charge of turkey and cranberry sauce and cheesecake; my duties were mashed potatoes, stuffing, bread, and, of course, wine.

While eating breakfast i mentioned to Carlos that i had heard from an old friend [Hi Suzanne!] on Facebook, and, as usual, Carlos had no idea to whom I was referring. He'd never met Suzanne, but I'd told him all sorts of stories, like this one:

When Suzanne was younger, she and a friend were making plans to go out on a Friday night. Her friend's mother, Betty, was desperate to tag-along, but she had one request. She sat the girls down and said, "I want to go out with you, too. But, don't call me Mom," she glanced at her daughter, "and don't call me Betty," she turned to Suzanne, "My name is Nicole Somblier."

This story always killed me. So, I said to Carlos that Suzanne had mentioned on Facebook that Betty had passed away, and Carlos said this:

"Bette Davis?"

"Yes," I said, "My friend Suzanne's friend from high school's mother was Bette Davis."

Oy! Anyway, I took some pictures of the day--Carlos is allowing NO faces--and here they are:

MaxGoldberg and Tuxedo, resting up in the sunroom before the feast. Little did they know thast their Thanksgiving feast would consist of the same dry food they get every day.

Tuxedo sees something shiny, and the hunt begins. Look at his face; he's ready to kill.

Ozzo, auditioning for a part in the Smallville production of Oliver!: "Please, sir? May I have some more?" Sadly, a neighborhood Schnauzer got the starring role, and Ozzo will be Orphan # 6.

Tallulah Belle, AKA La Princessa, cannot be bothered. She made a vow to never appear in public until there is food on the table.

Joy? Of cooking? I.Don't.Think.So.

This is the bird, which Carlos constantly referred to as a dead chicken, after it's two-day brine bath in apple cider, chicken stock, salt, sugar and spices. Then It was slatthered in herb butter and set on a rack. Sounds like some of the clubs I used to go to in San Francisco. God, I miss the 80s!

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with red onion, garlic and walnuts. Mon petite chou....my little cabbage!

Carlos' homemade cranberry sauces with bits or orange and cinnamon! He made enough so he can use the leftovers as a marmalade for toast. Always thinking, that Carlos!

Carlos makes the most incredible cheesecakes, including this Pumpkin Cheesecake. I think he should open a Smallville branch of Carlos' Casa de Cheesecake. I made some homemade whipped cream and we ate the cheesecake with Arabian coffee and a giant snifter of B&B. Mmmm.Mmmmm.Good.

And then here's our table, with enough food for an army, but that's how we cook around here. Every bite delicious.

Cheers to a Happy Thanksgiving from Smallville of all of you!