Giving Thanks and Food Poisoning
When even tried-and-true recipes result in disaster or deliciousness
I consider myself an elevator cook. I have my ups and downs.
A Thanksgiving dinner guest once declared my dressing the best he’d ever tasted. He wasn’t being polite. It was flipping amazing.
Another dinner guest at another Thanksgiving dinner suggested my turkey made him physically ill. He wasn’t being rude. It was toxic.
Ups, downs and health concerns aside, I remain eternally optimistic in my attempts at entertaining. Although chances of the meal tasting delicious are slim, the odds of the night being memorable are very high indeed.
My emotional state undoubtedly influences my cooking. One day, I might wake up in the chef zone. Cook books and written recipes are not only unnecessary but actually get in the way. Instinct is everything on these days. I can open the fridge, grab this and that, and effortlessly throw together a proper meal. I will find exactly the right spices in the back of a drawer. I can slide over a bowl in a forgotten cabinet and discover I just happen to have the weird shaped pan or ridiculously specific gadget required to make the dish in mind. And if not? I will inexplicably demonstrate a complete understanding of how I might substitute one thing for another resulting in never-before tasted…
