Hilarious critique of cupcakes

On the Tuesday before the Thanksgiving break each year, the boys' school has a thanks-themed Meeting for Worship (they attend a Friends school). I really enjoy attending it but today simply could not. Instead, Tom went, and I sent him with two darling cupcakes I'd bought from a local bread company that I adore. The vanilla cupcakes were topped with perfectly formed, swirly mounds of snow white frosting on which sat a sweet little Thanksgiving turkey. Though Jack can often give or take cupcakes, I thought he'd like the festivity of this one; Ol has never been known to not wolf down a cake-based dessert of any kind. I stayed home cozily cooking, and when the boys pushed the back door open upon returning home, I said, "how are you, sweeties?!" Jack, sounding very grim, immediately launched into an extremely well thought out diatribe about why the cupcake was the worst he'd ever tasted.

"That was a terrible cupcake, Mom. It was soooooo sweet, and that turkey tasted sooooo artificial. The cake was hard and not good. The frosting was awful, hard too and too sweet. Really, I can't tell you what a bad cupcake that was. Oliver didn't even like it."

A) I did not know he could recognize or articulate artificial tastes but am wildly proud that he can and did, and B) I was laughing so hard by the end of his goings-on that I couldn't even say hello to T. Oliver said the only part he liked was the turkey decoration but otherwise he agreed that it simply was NOT a good cupcake.

I'm still laughing about it.

Cooking is coming along at a good clip! Back to it!

Are my annual TG doldrums stewing? I can always hope they're not. A poll.

I'm not sure this is totally accurate, but I do not recall ever being a fan of Thanksgiving (TG). For starters, I played a pilgrim woman in about 400 Thanksgiving plays during my elementary school years and really felt complete pilgrim burnout by the time 6th grade rolled around. Secondly, TG has always felt SO blah to me. You've got a 50/50 chance of an overcast day, the sky nothing more than a funereal shroud hanging low. And the hues! Thanksgiving feels as if drums of muddy earth tones exploded everywhere. Cornucopias are yellow-brown, turkeys are brown, potatoes are white, gravy is brown, apple pie is pretty much beige, iced tea is brown, pumpkin pie is orange....you get my drift. Growing up, the only truly bright jewel was Nanny's cranberry sauce, a staple then and a staple now.

And the meal is always around 3pm. Why? You have to save up enough room so that you can still eat the meal but you also must graze enough beforehand that you don't go batshit from plummeting glycemic levels. I suspect this sounds really anal, but I'd rather go for straight-up lunch or straight-up dinner.

Though tasty, our traditional dishes -turkey, cornbread dressing, rice dressing, bean bundles, garlic bread- were a monotonous, sleepy hue (even the green beans are wrapped in bacon [brown]; delicious but nonetheless brown), and the carbs in concert with the turkey's tryptophan meant that after stuffing ourselves in the dining room, we moseyed glassy-eyed the short distance to the living room and took sonorous naps on the floor. You couldn't escape that slumber if you tried. And now, no amount of tryptophan will tamp the boys' energy so a darn nap isn't even possible. For me, wine as a TG beverage lost its spot years ago; if I imbibe AND eat turkey AND can't nap because of the kiddos, oh lawd, I hate to even consider the state I'd be in.

Since marrying Tom, we have celebrated TG with his lovely family, and, as I would with my own, I have tried to rock their culinary traditions boat just enough to put color on the table but not so much as to sink or disrespect the vessel. A vibrant Brussels sprouts slaw with mustard vinaigrette and candied pecans is now de rigueur at our TG meal, offering a visual counterpoint to the mashed potatoes and a helpful bit of fiber to boot. I tote along cranberry sauce a la Nanny, as well as my double grape-rosemary-pine nut compote. The standards remain -dressing! pecan pie!- but they get gussied up a bit with colorful neighbors.

I know that many people adore Thanksgiving because it is a family-based holiday minus the materialism that comes along with other holidays like Christmas. And that is surely nice, but for some reason, I just don't like the day. More often than not I end up feeling lonely and glum. I wish I could understand why. Perhaps it's the expectations of the day -BE THANKFUL AND HAPPY!- or the nostalgia that sweeps in with the advent of the holiday season, but I adore Christmas so there is something different about Turkey Day.

I have found in years past that starting the day with a Turkey Trot, the proceeds from which go to help those less fortunate, is critical for me. You get some exercise and give thanks by helping others. That's how my crew is kicking off this Thursday- the Turkey Trot downtown on Pennsylvania and Constitution Avenues that benefits So Others  Might Eat (SOME). And then we'll head to my in-laws to see a host of cousins, aunts and uncles. I suspect my annual doldrums will appear, but I can always hope for otherwise.

Do y'all like Thanksgiving? [polldaddy poll=7593420]

FM haul, and we met Alice, as in Waters

Ol and I eagerly braved sub-30s temps this morning to head down to Dupont for the farmers market. He was lured by the promise of eclairs at Bonaparte -"Ol, I really think this constitutes 'cold enough for eclair stability'"- while I wanted beets, apples and Brussels sprouts for Thanksgiving dishes. First stop: Bonaparte.

"Do you have eclairs today?" "Mais, oui!"

Ol beamed and I ordered two because he doesn't like to share even a bite of his, and really, I can't blame him.

Then to Eco Friendly where I was chagrined to find them out of ground turkey BUT did pick up a small container of freshly rendered schmaltz. Bellissimo! And then to Twin Springs Fruit Farm for a huge variety of crisp apples, and finally to our favorite spot, New Morning Farm (an organic vegetable farm from PA), to see Grace and the crew and get all the rest of our goodies. I bought two stalks of these Brussels sprouts and while exclaiming over them was surprised when Ol asked, "that's how they come? You don't make them?" I was baffled and reminded him that all veggies grow rather than are made. He responded, "but then do you make them?" Huh? We were just not understanding each other so I moved on to the basket of beets.

On our way back to the car, we made a wildly enthusiastic detour to the farm whose name I can never remember but really like because I SPIED SUNCHOKES. Oh, praise the sunchoke season. I am giddy.

And then Ol was really cold and wanting his eclair so I said, "now we're really going to go to the car," but then y'all, we passed a book signing and I was curious and sweet jesus, it was Alice Waters herself. She was bundled to about 4x her actual size and was being such a good sport despite the truly frigid morning. In all honesty, I have never been off my head about Chez Panisse or the Waters dynasty, but I do admire all Alice does on behalf of food policy, activism, her Edible Schoolyard projects, local and clean eating, so we ambled over, and I just had to buy her lovely book. Because Ol is the greatest sous chef, I asked her to inscribe it to him too. He smiled radiantly at her, and she told him she was going to put a heart by his name for good measure. At this point he was aglow, and I swear that momentarily, the eclair disappeared from his mind. Is this darling?!