what's for dinner?

I marinated the turkey the night before in onion soup and dry vermouth and made the stuffing with hot Italian sausage, applesauce, caramelized onions, celery, toasted bread, some black olives, spices, my three peppers and file powder.

The rest of the fare consisted of orange glazed yams, string bean casserole, raisin bread, rye bread, a gallon of rum, assorted wines, a bucket of gravy, and a cubic yard of mashed spuds. Julie and Nicole brought ham and pie and assorted other goodies.

When all was said and done, the stuffing was the only thing completely gone, which tells me I might have done something right.

I love Thanksgiving. It's the one day of the year were everyone gets to feed everyone else. Friends and family gather for the sole purpose of doing kitchen prep, laughing and tasting everything before it's done and putting in their 2 cents about how it might need a little more salt or whether or not the yams should have marshmallow, all with unlimited stemware filled with wines or exotic martinis.

What's more basic of mans humanity to man that that?

Rumor has it the first Thanksgiving precipitated the invention of the recliner, followed by slaughtering the Native Americans who brought the wild game.

Some traditions are meant to be changed.