8:32am
I’m late for work! I sit up like a flash before realizing quite where I am, who I am, and that it’s Saturday. Not being late for paid work doesn’t mean there’s no work to be done. Today’s the day. The big push to get everything done before tomorrow’s feast. Vitamin D. Sertraline. Fizzy vitamin. Let’s go.
9:08am
I make plans with my friends down the street to head over to theirs and grab their cast iron skillet. I’m definitely going to need two today and it’s going to be very important that I get my stovetop cooking done with them before moving onto the polenta butternut squash bake, which is my centerpiece dish. Once that goes in, there’s no going back.
9:30am
I stop at my favorite bakery, 287, on the way to my friends’. I’m thankful it’s raining today or the line would be out the door. I chat with my friend Karina who’s making the coffees and order an oat latte. She makes them the best. At the counter, I have a sweet conversation with Anna, the owner and baker and best sandwich maker. Everything looks delicious, but today is not the day to dillydally and so I order a pain au chocolat and a plain croissant to bring to my friends with the pan and a delicious sandwich of pickled radish, turmeric hummus, and sharp greens.
At my friends, I tell them I need more apples for pies and they tell me of someone in the neighborhood who has a bumper crop of cooking apples and is looking to get rid of some. We try to get in touch, but it turns out they’re away this weekend. It’s back to Lidl for me.
10:45am
5 bags of apples, another head of cauliflower, salt, margarine, a few other things I think I’ll need. Back home to get cooking.
11:15am
I’m sautéing Brussels sprouts, moving them back and forth in two pans. They’re a tricky one. You need to cook them long enough to soften them and give them a good mouth feel as they break apart into little leaves upon biting into them, but if they cook too long, they have a tendency to go a bit bitter. I add garlic granules and salt and cook them in a bit of olive oil. 5 pans later, they’re browned and tasty.
Onto carrots and parsnips. I’m going for a honey glaze this time and roasting them in the oven. I love a mix of sweet and savory on a fully loaded Thanksgiving plate, so I’m conscious to not make everything salty that I make. I’m thankful today for past me who chose to chop and peel all the parsnips and carrots last Monday allowing me to throw them into pans and save time.
12pm
While the oven is roasting away, I’m sautéing cabbage. A mix of red and white. I use olive oil and margarine, salt, fenugreek seeds, and some Garam masala. It’s a slow process and I’m getting antsy. My list for today seems never-ending and the kitchen is a disaster.
1:30pm
I’m hungry. What can I cobble together to eat? Oh! My sandwich from 287! I wolf it down. The bread is delicious, soft with a lovely crust. The inside is flavorful and the pickled radish adds a zing I desperately need.
I grab 3 chocolate covered espresso beans from the ex-soup container that my friend Rosie has thoughtfully given me as a pick-me-up through the week. I’m going to need these today.
Sometime throughout the afternoon
I’ve been roasting and sautéing and boiling and baking all day. I peel the apples and find one that looks like a heart and I think of Agnes Varda and her potatoes. I make two apple pies, as intended, but the crust that had formed so easily isn’t up for playing nice today. I roll it out and it alternates between sticking and flaking apart, too dry to handle. I make one a very sad lattice top and the other a full cover with a star-shaped cut out in the center for ventilation and decoration. They brown nicely and smell good, so I hope they taste okay.
I wait for Dan to arrive with the escarole from the café where Jamie works. Sara, the Italo-Scot who owns the place is kind enough to order extras for me. I’m excited to make “Utica Greens”, an Italian-American staple where I grew up. The New York Times once featured an article about them and included a recipe and ever since, I’ve been wanting to make them. Apart from Sara, no one here has ever heard of escarole. One shop clerk once suggested I make it with seaweed…
Red peppers, chili powder, salt, parmesan, breadcrumbs first sautéed then broiled.
6:45pm
I arrive back at Nick’s place where Holly is gearing up to watch the football game. Argentina and Mexico are about to play, but I only care about my cornbread and sauces. I take the icy packages from the freezer and head back home.
7:30pm
I’m trying a new recipe of cauliflower and stuffing and pomegranate arils with dried apricots and spices. I have no idea what I’m doing and the recipe insists I bake the stuff with a tented foil on top. Well, I’m out of foil.
Colin, my upstairs neighbor in a lifesaving move, delivers me foil and another tub of margarine. I think this is my 6th.
8:45pm
The cauliflower stuffing looks pretty good. I pick a bit off and taste it. Testes pretty good, too. I’m hungry again and have made the beginnings of a couscous salad, which I dish out a bit for myself. Couscous, chickpeas, dried cranberries, olive oil, and salt. I scoop it into my mouth hardly conscious of the flavor and keep cooking.
9:30pm
I’m getting tired and am aware that if I don’t get the butternut squash started, I’m not going to be awake to finish it tonight and, as it will have to sit in the refrigerator overnight and be baked again tomorrow, it needs to be. I set to task peeling and chopping. I start making the polenta and the onion and spice mix. I add some vegetable stock from a bullion cube and am delighted at the little silver envelope it comes in. I add chestnut mushrooms, which I cook with a good amount of water, ever since hearing that boiling them makes them more flavorful. I mash the squash and incorporate everything into a giant stockpot.
I stop working to send a reminder text to everyone who has said they’re coming. There’s always the fear I’ll have made all this food and everyone will forget.
11pm
I get a second wind. I’m finishing the centerpiece dish and I put it into the fridge. I begin trying to deal with the Christmas cake nightmare. I’ve removed the burned edges revealing a very tasty and moist inside. It’s not possible to be served looking this way, though. I cut the bundt cake into pieces and begin to squish it together into a sort of square. It looks almost like it was made this way. I’ve found some Philadelphia cream cheese that’s plant based and have decided to try and make a thin cream cheese frosting to cover the top. I mix it with powdered sugar and maple syrup, as I’ve forgotten to buy more vanilla extract and have run out. When the consistency is right, I pour it over the top. I think I can pretend this is what the cake was meant to be.
I mash potatoes. They run over in the pot, like always, and make a mess on the stove. I sit down and peel the rest of the bag. 7.5kg of potatoes are about to be mashed. My guests better be hungry.
I put together the rest of the couscous salad. Chopped radishes, dried cranberries, arugula, leeks, and walnuts for something a bit fresh and light to add to the table.
1am
I lay out the bags of cornbread and the apple and cranberry sauces allowing them to defrost overnight. I’ve only got a bit more to do before bed. I’m sleepy, but the chocolate espresso beans are doing wonders. I have a list of the things meant to get done today and I get through most of it.
2:30am
Exhausted and with a sore back from leaning over the too short countertops, I get in bed. I think about Julia Child who my mom said had all her countertops raised so they were high enough for her to work comfortably. I think about my friend Virginia who once told me she couldn’t wear a half apron like I do because her tummy always got food on it. I realized then that I was much taller than her. I think these thoughts as I drift to sleep, visions of sugarplum fairies and butternut squash dancing in my head.
This week we’ve very excited about having giacinta frisillo sharing with us from Glasgow via New York: giacinta frisillo (she, they) (@giacinta_frisillo , @_glovestory_) is a visual and performance artist and community educator. she loves cats and hates capital letters. This week, giacinta is having a Thanksgiving meal, feeding friends, serving them with the best autumnal foods and we are looking forward to hearing threads of her thought processing what Thanksgiving means to her.
As ever, get in touch if you too would like to have a week writing on the Gazette, it’s open to all. Best,
Sinae+Kate