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After coming home from the gym (Tip: procrastinating by doing virtuous things makes you feel better), I broke out the leftovers. Turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce. Now, I’m not one for gussying up turkey leftovers. I like my leftovers to be a continuation of the feast, a little echo of the day before. So I piled a mound of stuffing, topped it with turkey, then microwaved. I finished it with a dollop of cranberry.
Almost as good as yesterday! The secret to my mom’s stuffing is home-made whole-wheat bread. Seriously. Real bread makes all the difference, but I think part of the secret is the whole wheat, which adds some extra depth and nuttiness to the flavour. I suppose this secret is a day late. Ah well. Keep it in mind for next stuffing-required celebration.
I know the photo’s not beautiful, but hey. Neither was the real thing. Didn’t make it any less delicious.
Today is not an exciting day, but it is a big one. I’ve got 50 papers to grade (hooray for my MA, side projects, and profs desperate for grading help), a birthday cake to bake (Happy Birthday, Steven!), and of course, blogging to do. We’re almost through NaBloPoMo!
I thought I’d start with breakfast today (start blogging, not start eating. I eat breakfast every morning. I am obsessed with food after all, and NEVER miss a reason to eat). Please excuse the glamour photo. Given that I started my day with papers, I thought it would be appropriate to photograph my eggs with one of those essays. But then I realized that I didn’t want you to be able to read any students’ work, so I soft-focussed it. Of course, these eggs deserve a glamour shot. That’s home-smoked salmon perched on top of soft, silky, creamy, slow-cooked scrambled eggs. Isn’t that salmon a beautiful colour? My dad just bought a smoker, so that salmon was part of Thanksgiving dinner last night. Thank goodness there were leftovers. We smuggled home two big chunks. It’s salty and smoky and sweet, and I can’t wait to go over my my parents’ again. I was thinking maybe smoked tofu would be a worthy smoker experiment. What do you think? Anything else I NEED to try?
As far as the eggs go, I cooked them over low heat for about 10 minutes. As I was beating them with a fork, I thought “you know, this breakfast is going to be pretty virtuous.” So I added a couple tablespoons of cream. And there you go! Breakfast to go with “”Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens, which is a good example of a Bildungsroman. Bildungsroman is defined as….”
I’m having Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’ house tonight. I’m lucky to celebrate twice, thanks to living in Canada but being a child of American parents.
I apologize. First of all, I am (criminally, as they’re gorgeous) incapable of taking a good enough picture of these lemons. Second, I have two articles due on Monday, neither of which are remotely done, and nowhere near enough time between now and then. I’m saving my words! Third, I don’t know what to do with this little treasure trove yet. I’m still considering. Do you use Meyer lemons? Do you have any great ideas?
If you’re looking for ideas, here’s what I did with some of my lemons last year:
The other day in my food writing course, we were talking about food trends. I had already told the class that I write about cocktails, so when we got to the cocktail arena, everyone turned to me. I hummed and hawed and worried and said “I don’t know, exactly, but maybe old-fashioned cocktails are making a comeback?” Then I said something about bitter flavours, because I love bitter. So ignore that part, which may or may not be right. But the classic cocktail thing? I just received December’s Bon Appetit, and take a look at this story. It’s a fun one, with pictures of people in vintage clothes and great cocktail recipes, both drinks and eats. You should check it out because it’s neat, and because I was kind of right. I love it when that happens.
As a side note, SiS just took the plunge into twitter, which, frankly, still confuses me. A week ago, I commented that twitter had a steeper curve than blogging. Niall responded, telling me I’d figure it out in no time. FIVE DAYS LATER I realized that he’d responded. Then I wrote him a nearly nonsensical tweet in response. Clearly I’m still figuring it out. But if you want to follow us, you can do so here.
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