Oh man is that a nice full fridge! We’ve got six kinds of cheese alone. I realize these are for tomorrow’s cheese platter. Actually my mom just made that very clear as I was suspiciously surveying the contents of the kitchen, slicer in hand.
Since I want to save myself for sandwich marriage on Friday, I’m going to make a pre-Thanksgiving salad from the results of my fridge pickin’ spree. Let’s see, we have baby spinach, red grapes, walnuts, celery, gorgonzola, green apples…wow, that was easy. Looks like I’ll be having a Waldorf salad. …nah, that’s not what I want. Let me try again.
I see butternut squash, tons of chicken broth, sage, diced onion and pre-cubed bread for stuffing that I bet would also make killer croutons. I’m making a quickie version of our butternut squash and sage soup. But Jess, isn’t that what you’ll be having tomorrow? Fact: we are having gingered carrot-dill soup tomorrow, so I believe I’m safe. But you’re right, I don’t want to risk it. Do-overs.
We’ve got prosecco, three colors of wine, vodka, whiskey and plenty of mixers…and it suddenly occurs to me that’s it’s not “almost noon on the day before a holiday in New York City,” it’s “straight-up 8:20 a.m. over here in sunny Califor-nye-ay.” Nix that liquid lunch, even I can’t swing that.
Hmm…I forgot that mothers keep cold cuts in their refrigerators. And mine, being a chef and general food enthusiast, keeps a veritable cornucopia of condiments in the fridge: four kinds of mustard, two of mayo, relish, horseradish sauce, Indian pickle (which is amazing on a sandwich), ajvar (a spicy Turkish relish of eggplant and roasted peppers just BEGGING to liven up sliced turkey) and, of course, all this cheese I’m sure I could inconspicuously shave a few ounces off without being smacked away with a wooden spoon. Don’t even get me started on that weapon of choice.
Yes, after much thought and cross-analysis I’ve decided that a regular old extremely jazzed-up sandwich is the way to go. Thanks for coming along on that wild ride, and join me tomorrow when I put myself in more active peril as I scavenge lunch from active Thanksgiving prep.