I have one thing to say. I love Thanksgiving. I spent two days and night in the kitchen trying to make a meal for just four people. Two of them children. This did not make a difference, as they seemed to eat the adults under the table. I love dressing. I love yams. I did three proteins this year: beef roast, barbecued chicken wings, and a turkey. I wanted mashed potatoes and hubby wanted potato salad. Right now, they are both taking up an amazing amount of space in my fridge.
My secret shames this Thanksgiving were: canned cranberry sauce and yams that tasted as if they had been dipped in heavy olive oil. There was no sweetness to the yams, though I added both brown and white sugar. There was no identifiable flavor and I promise you, olive oil did not make it into the bowl when I whipped them. I called myself condensing everything to make space, attempting to eat through this food before next week. This ain't happening.
All I can think is 'Damn' I need a cheeseburger.'
