As bizarre ...embarrassing... as this is, while I was in the middle of Thanksgiving prep extravaganza, the thought actually ran through my head that if my kitchen were a fraternity then my oven had just been rushed. I laughed out loud at myself for thinking about a fraternity and for thinking about it in comparison to my kitchen. Never fear, I apologized profusely, and asked the kitchen's forgiveness.
Yesterday, my dad stopped through town with my aunt and cousin. They wanted to see our new little cubbyhole. After the quick 4.2 seconds tour, we headed to the Farmers Market.
sheerly giddy: (definition)
standing among mounds of apples, heaps of collards, pounds of sweet potatoes, happy farmers, and knowing Thanksgiving is only two days away... and counting
Aunt Valerie gets how stunning a daikon radish can be, nearly squeals at the color of fresh collards, and buys peppers because they are pretty and she will figure out how to turn them into dinner.
I love that about her. Sifting through smells and colors, we chatted about life; interrupting ourselves to swoon over the prettiest root.
Tomorrow our family will all gather at the coast for the feast. It is no secret that I am elated at the thought of a gorgeous meal, loads of good bites, and scraping the plate after pie. The immense blessing of a feast sometimes still stops me in my tracks. In the bustle of pies and stuffings I long for a heightened gratefulness, thankfulness, for every bite. Life this last year has placed me in relationships with many friends barely able to feed their families. This is not meant to be a soapbox or guilt trip really, but because I have been so blessed to have a family, blessed to have a feast, this is rather a truth I long to live:
I want to know every second is a gift, every gift an investment, every investment a responsibility, every responsibility an opportunity to steward gratefully. My hope for my family and yours is that we eat with gratitude instead of gluttony, unity in place of enmity.
Thinking through my blessings, I count Soup Spoon at least twice. You are lovely for reading and commenting. Please know I appreciate, read, and treasure every one of your thoughts. Thanks for sharing them.
I am nearly teary, honestly...
I suppose you want a recipe while you are here, and that is good because I have one for you.
After whipping pounds of sweet potatoes, baking pumpkin pies, and candying pecans I wanted salt... anchovies even!!! just give me savory, salty, and deep. After perusing the shelves of my fridge and determining what items were not already claimed for Thanksgiving, I tossed chanterelle mushrooms into the skillet with a bit of butter and sea salt, boiled organic spaghetti, minced a handful of fresh parsley, and zested a lemon. ohh this was just right...
Spaghetti with Chanterelle Mushrooms serves 2
4-6 oz spaghetti
2 cups chanterelle mushrooms, cleaned well
1/2 cup flat leaf parsley
zest of 1/2 lemon (about 1 tsp)
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
olive oil for tossing pasta
1/2 tbsp butter to sauté mushrooms
sea salt and fresh cracked black pepper to taste1. Boil water for pasta
2. Heat medium sized skillet over medium low heat and melt butter. Toss in mushrooms and a dash of salt
3. Let mushrooms cook until their natural moisture evaporates (about 20 minutes). Stir occasionally
4. While mushrooms are cooking, wash and mince parsley. Zest the lemon
5. Taste a mushroom. When they are tender and browned, toss in parsley and lemon zest
6. Cook and drain pasta. Toss with a bit of olive oil. If your skillet is big enough, just toss the pasta in with mushrooms once they have finished cooking. If the skillet is too small, toss the pasta back into the pot and add the mushrooms to it
7. Drizzle balsamic and salt and pepper to taste.
8. enjoy.... You may replace chanterelles with an exotic or wild blend of mushrooms if you would like, and a shaving or two of parmeggiano-reggiano would be a nice touch.
Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy it however you spend it.
