I had come prepared with a can of 100% authentic and artificial Ocean Spray cranberry jelly, and recipes for Mark Bittman's pumpkin pie (pumpkin is a common veg here) and Mom's famous Apple Tart (original source: Boston Globe Magazine circa 1990.) I was wholly outdone by a group of (extremely spaced out, twenty year foreign service vet) ladies from the American Embassy who through slightly shady backchannels involving a military plane had procured a twelve pound Butterball turkey, origin stamped as North Carolina, I kid you not. Kinda makes you proud, doesn't it? To think of that turkey gobbling around a thousand others who all saw nothing but some Carolina dirt and the rear end of the next turkey over but finding its glorious final rest overlooking the green foothills of the Rwenzoris and Lake Mwamba 6,000 miles away. Proud or slightly nauseous at the expended carbon smell, especially given that their are plenty of perfectly fine turkeys within 3K...but hey, one out of a few hundred meals isn't bad considering the average.
Anyway, I spent a pretty idyllic Thanksgiving (actually the day after to give Betsy Butterball time to brine). Morning was usual reading and notes making over tea followed by Terry Pratchett and Savannah Dry (see earlier entry) by the pool, and Scrabble with Kay the gravelly voiced possibly burnt out Texan to whom stuffing is akin to a military campaign, a campaign complicated by the head chef's difficulty with her accent (sh
e ducked out of the kitchen at one point and hushedly asked "Please, what is 'buddah?'")
Afternoon was pie making (a big deal in the kitchen! They are excellent cooks, but don't often have an advisee baker, so this was a teaching session. I felt properly puffed up.) Mom's apple tart came out perfectly in the end.
Baking was enhanced by the gift of a proper Manhattan courtesy a former Brookly
n speakeasy bartender stopping in on his way to Congo to research his book on Dandyism. (Not kidding, and yes, he was. A feat when you are travelling over these red dusty roads.)
Dinner was a solid success, though the Brits in attendance were a little nonplussed not to mention the staff's feelings who had never heard of the holiday, the starter was an incongruous green papay
a salad, and the pumpkin pie was an utter flop (I think the pumpkins here are maybe just a bit too different; some a
djustments must be made), but the tart was a big hit (if possibly the most expensive with most well traveled ingredients tart of all time), I advised them in the nick of time that thanksgiving potatoes are to be mashed, Kay got sloshed enough to forgive the unavailability of celery for her stuffing, and generally too much delicious food was enjoyed merrily by all.
Dinner was followed by Wizard of Oz and, happily, Blues Brothers on the projector, at least until the solar ran out, and even for the last of us an early bedtime. I still don't think staff grokked at all the Thanksgiving thing ("So it is like Christmas we have here?" "Yes. But...we also have Christmas.") but they were definitely in support of how early the work day ends when the last dinner serving is at five instead of eight or nine, so really good times for all.
Hope your holiday was at least as good! Any good stories?
In all seriousness, it felt a very timely holiday, since I feel just made out of thankfulness for my time here. I feel the gift of it every single day. Being away also makes me realize how many amazing people are in my life, and I can't wait to see or at least exchange emails with many of you soon. Sending love, gratitude, and the very best wishes across the continents and oceans until then!
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