|Turkey carnitas, anyone?|
My partner has gone to her brother's in Chicago and I've stayed here to help my daughter with her week old baby and two-year-old. That means it will be just M and D and me (and tiny tots) at the table today. If the baby had come late, we might have had other grandparents around so we ordered food for 8. Now we will have the dreaded leftovers for days.
I hate leftover turkey. It is so guilt-inducing. Not only must we eat up the meat in endless sandwiches and casseroles, but the carcass looms for days, crying out "Make soup!"
I know I should. It's wasteful not to. But I don't particularly like turkey even when freshly roasted, and I find the steamy miasma of boiling turkey distinctly unpleasant.
Thankfully, we have beef for Christmas.
I was going to write about the significance of Thanksgiving, not the old story of Pilgrims and Indians, but its status as the great American civic holiday. Perhaps I will yet.