It’s that time of year again, holiday parties, holiday brews and holiday cocktails, all in the spirit of the season. Don’t get me wrong, I love this time of year, and other than the word “holiday,” I do my best to give it my all every season.
From January 10, 2013
Last night I asked Azul, my five year-old, if he drank all of his milk and he replied, “I’d…mumble…mumble.”
Not understanding the “mumble” I said, “You dumped it?”
He answered, “I drunk it. Drunk is my favorite word!”
I nodded and thought, me too.
Almost ten years ago we bought our first house, and like most giddy new home owners, I was ready to host a holiday. So, Thanksgiving was going to be mine! We had my family and my husband’s family, although he wasn’t my husband yet, and some of our friends over. It was a big gathering in my little house of about 1000 square feet; there was cooking going on, and drinking and talking and it was awesome. Once the turkey was done it was almost time to eat, and at the last-minute, I remembered, the gravy. I forgot about the gravy. I frantically started cooking the giblets and innards for the gravy. Whew, gravy is cooking and everything was still under control, now all I had to do was blend the gravy to make it smooth. I took the gravy from the stove top and poured it in the blender; I was almost done and ready to serve dinner to my friends and family. Have I mentioned that I am a vegetarian and don’t eat turkey or any meat products? Well, I turn the blender on and KABOOM! It exploded and there was gravy and pieces of turkey innards everywhere — on the walls, the ceiling, the blinds — everywhere. And I was wearing it too; it was on my clothes, in my hair and on my face and eyelashes. It was gross and hilarious. I guess you’re not supposed to blend hot liquids because the heat creates pressure, which can cause an explosion and a huge mess. Who knew? Five years later when we were getting ready to sell our house, there were still gravy stains on the ceiling from MY first Thanksgiving.