30 November 2009
Turkey delight
This Thanksgiving, kind neighbours invited us to dinner and cooked a spendid meal, not only to us but to other half strangers as well. On my plate was sweet potato mash (5 o'clock on the plate) with marshmellows, melted so a little bit of sugar was coming down the sides of the mash, adding sweetness to the sweet potato. Interesting concept. I know they say the sweet potato is red, but I think it has a beautiful orange colour to it.
White potato mash (3 o'clock) was cramped up next to it, very nicely cooked and fluffy, but then again, I love mash. Juicy turkey (12 o'clock), nice piece from the leg, homemade stuffing (9 o'clock), gravy (7 o'clock) and fresh cranberries falling off the plate to the left. Vegetables on top of it all in the middle.
I was fighting with my inner connoisseur to enjoy this lovely meal; not possible, simply too much food on that plate. My lovely neighbours had spent the whole day in the kitchen to make food for lonely strangers on this fine day; not eating it because there was too much food on my plate not only felt wrong, but quite blatently is wrong. Not to mention food shortage just around the corner, yes, what kind of person am I anyway. It is a cliché to mention the hungry children in Africa and elsewhere, but the truth none the less, which my mother often told me about in true honestly with tears in her eyes. I am not joking, my mother possessed a rare empathy for all people. I only in my adult years realised that my mother was working hard to make ends meet to serve good food every day. And we did eat well, even if it was cheap, because I never knew it was. My moms powder lemon custard with canned fruit was the height of the week (on Saturdays), and it was amazingly good. You can also make it for about 3 dollars for a family of 5.
So, I went on to taste everything and really tried to navigate my fork from plate to mouth, my dear husband was kind enough to start the meal by saying that where we come from, one does not have to clear the plate if one has not served one-self. I don't know if that is universally accepted good manners, but none the less, I did leave quite a bit...I decided not to make excuses for my lack of appetite, all though I think the wonderful chef thought me indifferent to the food, she had spent hours cooking. Excuses would have made it worse. My hosts went on to introduce a tradition of sharing a thanks and they of course had the most personal and heartily thanks to give - to each other, nothing cheese ball or anything, which made me want to cry and made me feel even more terrible about my plate.
I am bit of an akward personality all together; my husband is quite the opposite, so easy-going and good with people. I am not sure what happens, I don't walk around in a bell jar or anything, I am all together a jolly fellow and love a good laugh, it is more like I have a surveillance camera attached to my head and I am watching everything through that. I think it gives me bit of a crazy style of walking. All though I am told my sister has the same walk. I should ask her about the camera. Anyway, watching my plate, I was sitting down and my camera was sort of tilted over the table. Metaphorically speaking, of course. My point is, the plate just looked overwhelming and I should have cleared the plate with an "mmmmm, delicious". I become so self-absorbed in what I should do that everything becomes akward. Or maybe it doesn't, but it sure looks that way on the film. I should stop now.
White potato mash (3 o'clock) was cramped up next to it, very nicely cooked and fluffy, but then again, I love mash. Juicy turkey (12 o'clock), nice piece from the leg, homemade stuffing (9 o'clock), gravy (7 o'clock) and fresh cranberries falling off the plate to the left. Vegetables on top of it all in the middle.
I was fighting with my inner connoisseur to enjoy this lovely meal; not possible, simply too much food on that plate. My lovely neighbours had spent the whole day in the kitchen to make food for lonely strangers on this fine day; not eating it because there was too much food on my plate not only felt wrong, but quite blatently is wrong. Not to mention food shortage just around the corner, yes, what kind of person am I anyway. It is a cliché to mention the hungry children in Africa and elsewhere, but the truth none the less, which my mother often told me about in true honestly with tears in her eyes. I am not joking, my mother possessed a rare empathy for all people. I only in my adult years realised that my mother was working hard to make ends meet to serve good food every day. And we did eat well, even if it was cheap, because I never knew it was. My moms powder lemon custard with canned fruit was the height of the week (on Saturdays), and it was amazingly good. You can also make it for about 3 dollars for a family of 5.
So, I went on to taste everything and really tried to navigate my fork from plate to mouth, my dear husband was kind enough to start the meal by saying that where we come from, one does not have to clear the plate if one has not served one-self. I don't know if that is universally accepted good manners, but none the less, I did leave quite a bit...I decided not to make excuses for my lack of appetite, all though I think the wonderful chef thought me indifferent to the food, she had spent hours cooking. Excuses would have made it worse. My hosts went on to introduce a tradition of sharing a thanks and they of course had the most personal and heartily thanks to give - to each other, nothing cheese ball or anything, which made me want to cry and made me feel even more terrible about my plate.
I am bit of an akward personality all together; my husband is quite the opposite, so easy-going and good with people. I am not sure what happens, I don't walk around in a bell jar or anything, I am all together a jolly fellow and love a good laugh, it is more like I have a surveillance camera attached to my head and I am watching everything through that. I think it gives me bit of a crazy style of walking. All though I am told my sister has the same walk. I should ask her about the camera. Anyway, watching my plate, I was sitting down and my camera was sort of tilted over the table. Metaphorically speaking, of course. My point is, the plate just looked overwhelming and I should have cleared the plate with an "mmmmm, delicious". I become so self-absorbed in what I should do that everything becomes akward. Or maybe it doesn't, but it sure looks that way on the film. I should stop now.
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