This Thanksgiving I've been reunited with my familiy in snowy Minnesota, not the coastal North Carolina where I grew up, but still a place I'm learning to call my home away from home. It's been interesting and funny and different being reunited with everyone, a comfort sometimes, and then a reminder of childhood angst at others. I suppose this is how families go. On Thanksgiving we arrived home to find that nothing had been prepared and it was nearly 4 o'clock, so I put my game face on and quickly prepared as much as I could in a few hours. I whipped up rosemary mashed potatoes, a sweet potato bake where I used eggnog (surprisingly delicious!) with maple brown sugared pecans on top, sauteed spinach and shallots with lemon and grated parmesan, stuffing, and a Greek salad, all in a couple of hours! While we were waiting for the turkey to I decided to finish it all off with a pie - cranberry apple pie.
We didn't have any cutters in the house, so I had a lot of fun cutting these shapes by hand. The process was very organic and quieting and I felt reunited with my decision to pursue baking.
n. the feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness—to the extent you have to keep reminding yourself that it happened at all, even though it felt so vivid just days ago—which makes you wish you could smoothly cross-dissolve back into everyday life, or just hold the shutter open indefinitely and let one scene become superimposed on the next, so all your days would run together and you’d never have to call cut.