We made homemade pie crusts today. And baked homemade rolls. We tossed together some homemade chicken stock; its aroma is filling the house with anticipatory joy. My nine-year-old wanted dumplings, so we whipped up homemade pot stickers, too. And dipping sauce. We couldn’t forget that.
But I fear I may be running out of juice. Thanksgiving’s not for another two days, and we basically just made from scratch all the things I usually buy. To balance this, for Thursday, I might just have to buy all the things I usually make. Either that, or serve chicken soup, pie crust, wantons, and rolls.
Also popcorn. I love popcorn.
In the end, of course, I know it doesn’t matter. Whether we eat turkey and turnips, or popcorn and pot stickers, the food is actually the least important part.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. May yours be a day of fullness and gratitude.
