Thanksgiving Dinner

So last week, the giant called and said that we were going to go to a work Thanksgiving dinner. I was quite excited at the prospect because I love nothing more than eating, drinking and over the top Americaness. I was really looking forward to it until the giant called me one afternoon this week and told me that it had fallen through and he elected me to prepare the feast for his work colleagues. Hello? I can't even cook eggs without stuffing them up, how did he giant propose I prepare a thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings? The funniest bit was that my mum was overjoyed that the giant had nominated me to cook. She felt a sense of fulfillment as an Italian mother like as if she had completed a duty in life, that there was nothing left for her to do. Hilarious I say. She forgets however that this young one is an enterprising one- something to be proud of and not all at the same time. Anyway, the giant works with an American and a Turk (who thinks he's American) so they were really looking forward to it. In fact there was a bit of emotion as we held hands around the table and said grace as they were a bit homesick and thanksgiving is a very important holiday for them. Grace? My mum must be proud.

In the morning I dropped the giant off at work and went on operation pumpkin pie. I had googled and googled pumpkin pie to see if I could find a recipe that slightly resembled one we had at an American's house a few years back and BINGO, I found one. So where did I go? Why the American supermarket with the giant lobster on the front- of course! The helpful Indian man in the shop told me I got the last tin of pumpkin in Dubai as he had kept it aside for a lady yesterday that never turned up. So Hershey's kisses, marshmallow fluff and a tin of pumpkin in tow, I headed off to another supermarket that has the special sealed off section for pork products. There is literally a sign that says "Pork non-Muslims only". Pork was a thanksgiving requirement stipulated by the giant. I improvised the infamous olive and feta pies and replaced olives for bacon. They were a hit. In fact, the late comers were punished by not having any.

So I came home, prepared some cranberry cocktail mixers and put them in the freezer, tidied up a bit (ahem) and started to get ready. Something's missing here isn't it? The turkey. How was I expected to pull that all together? For 8 people? So, I did what any other respectable lady of leisure would have done and found a hotel that would prepare the 9kg beast and all the trimmings. I felt like a criminal, a true criminal, but there was no other way. After running around all day and cleaning up after the giant (how can there be so many pairs of dirty socks scattered around the house?), at 5:30pm I went to the hotel to pick it up. A 9kg turkey, roast potatoes, baked vegetables, stuffing, cranberry and gravy. The chef was running a bit behind, so I rang the giant who was in on it and stalled him and his comrades. I got it all home and after 2 trips to the car, the dream became a reality. I finally had everything... now to eliminate the evidence. I took everything out of its makeshift trays and found as many baking dishes as I could to make it look as though I had been slaving away all day- which I was... I promise. Now I'm not one for a carb, and I don't think I've eaten a potato other than in chip form (because that doesn't count) since 1983, but those potatoes were out of control. As the great man Bruno once said, I committed carbocide.

Everything was alfoiled up and in the oven- thank god we have one of those massive ones, otherwise I don't think I could have pulled it all off. I pulled our little Ikea dining table out onto the balcony and extended it and then took another table we have and extended that too. They all match. I had thought about this very well in February when I first did our IKEA shop when we arrived here. I knew there would be a time when I would entertain in large numbers, but have to admit, I never thought it would be for thanksgiving. I only had about half an hour to dress the table and realised that I didn't even have a table cloth for a large table, nor enough glasses and plates! My American friend on my floor (who I will introduce you all to soon- I can't believe I haven't done so already- she is my partner in crime and corruption and a great friend), who had also organised an impromptu turkey and from the same place as me, came to my rescue, while Tallulah with an 'h' dropped over some tumblers and a chord for my laptop. My table setting was set- amazing. Centre piece, amazing, scattered hersey's kisses- amazing, IKEA drinks tray for $18 amazing and bloody mary station-amazing. I know, I am amazing.

The company was brilliant, the food amazing (because I only made 25% of it) and I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming feeling of guilt as compliments like "this is the most amazing turkey I have ever eaten" and "how did you get that so moist?" and "oh my god you stuffed the turkey with vegetables as well?". I thought of my dear American friend on my flor who only a few weeks before had invited us over for dinner and served us soup from a carton for entree. I was angry at her for quite a while as I was on detox at the time and was sure that there was dairy in it. I snapped at her for being aloof and not being able to remember what ingredients were in it. I thought it was really mean because she knew how hard I was trying. I confronted her the next day and she confessed. She did it so well. I aspired to be like her and not be such an over discloser. She was so proud of me this morning when I told her I didn't tell anyone where the turkey really came from.

And so to you all who attended, if you should be reading, I am very sorry for not disclosing- I felt I was too far gone to back down or to back track, and thank you for your fine compliments. All I can say is if I had to actually pull that all off it would have been virtually impossible. Hats off to the mums of the world that make the turkey dinner and thanksgiving roast dreams a reality.