As much as I’d like to report that the turkey swirls in the other direction here on Thanksgiving, I’m sad to say that’s just not the case.
Besides, it was duck, not turkey since the Financial and Menu Adviser’s father dislikes The Bird What Gobbles.
And just to make it a bit stranger, we did the Thankgiving dinner thing on Saturday, not Thursday.
There is no Thanksgiving celebration here, of course, so I imported one. Cooked the pumpkin soup, stuffed and trussed up the duck, roasted the veggies and Executive Chef’d the homemade sweet potato ice cream.
The FMA’s friends couldn’t come over mid-week, since they don’t give random Thursdays off, and Saturday night’s as good as any for a dinner party. The game on TV was cricket, not football, so we just turned the bloody box off anyway. And either because or despite the fact that the only people present who were related were the FMA and her parents, there was a minimal of squabbling.
Mater Worthington got a bit tipsy on her sparkling apple juice and began relating stories of the FMA’s sordid past. I found them hilarious, but everyone else seemed to know them fairly well or have lived through them. Weird, huh?
All in all, cooking up T-Day in Aussieland was a fun experience, even if it felt a bit like recreating the Eiffel Tower in Tokyo.