Weekend Update, November 10, 2012

Epiphany:
noun.
a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.
epiphanies, epiphanic, epiphonous

I've been informed by reliable sources that in 10 days it will be Thanksgiving. That's 11 sleeps, to those of who pay a visit to the internal shop of silly uncertainties whenever we hear people counting off the days til an event. 

We hear "10 days til..." and get distracted, wondering "does today count as a day?" " Does the day count as a day?". 

Easier by far to count sleeps.

Of which there are 11. Until Thanksgiving.

My reaction, when I realized that the holidays, like a thunderstorm, are upon us? The lift of one perfectly groomed eyebrow in momentary surprise.


you know, kinda like this.

There are people who know me well and are wondering why I didn't illustrate the loomingosity of the holidays with the real scream picture. You know, the Munch scream:

Two reasons:

1. This picture has been genuinely creeping me out since I first saw it in a history textbook in 1973. (shudder) There are certain things not even I can turn into a joke.

2. This week, an epiphany flew in from some quiet, amberlit place, and found enough runway space in my busy brain to land.

 Munch scream? No longer applicable nor necessary. 

Not necessary, because last week, I posed a Thanksgiving question to Martha, the amazing woman who I get to see whenever I visit my (equally superlative) doctor, and she told me about one of her family's most memorable Thanksgivings:

Everybody's favorite foods, all on the table at once, including, but not limited to, French toast, fajitas, burgers, and chocolate chip cookies.

 And this year, I learned, Martha's family will be gratefully, not guiltfully, feasting on movie food as they watch a show at the drive in.

And suddenly, there it was.

Epiphany.

 A sudden perception of essential meaning.

Thanksgiving, dear ones, is just a party. A party with some food you love, and some people you love.

a little like this 

or this 

or this

 If you're lucky. If you're not so lucky, it's a party with people you have resolved to treat lovingly, like the well mannered person you are, even if after the first half hour you wish you could crawl out of your skin and send your bloody skinless self screaming  down the street.

like this

 If you're hosting, and fighting panic, help is out there:

Martha and Splendid Table have a Thanksgiving checklists, and so do

Real Simple  and Woman's Day.  Even Reader's Digest and Disney's Family Fun site have step-by-steps to help you out.

My own Thanksgiving checklist?

1. Find out where the food is going to be.

2. Go there, because here cannot possibly be made ready in time.

3. Talk with grown ups, play with children, reverse and repeat.

4. Get on the outside of some good food, and on the inside of some good hugs.

5. Surrender to gratitude.

And the food discovery of the week?

Slow Roast Pork! Nothing profound, but really quite yummy, and I learned alot.

I tried the Pulled pork recipe, and wow!

Lesson 1.

Experimenting with food is fun.

I decided to lessen my ignorance about cuts of meat with the following experiment:

The recipe calls for a pork shoulder roast, so I bought one, and also bought a pork tenderloin.

both under $3 a pound!!!!

I prepped the salt water mixture according to the recipe, and both roasts went into the briney deep on Friday night.

Saturday morning, massaged those slabs-o-meat with the dry rub, thinking "mmmm. pork sandwiches for lunch." 

Lesson 2. or rather, Mistake 1.

Thinking that it was a good idea to double the dry rub recipe, so that I could store the extra for another day.

 I had this much leftover....

and was about to save it, when I thought

"wait a sec...I'm pretty sure I just dipped my goopy raw porked hands into this bag. Over and over."

So, I weighed the risk of salmonella against tossing $1.50 in spices, and decided that from now on, every raw meat thing gets it's very own, single use, ungermified batch of seasoning.

 Lesson 3/ Mistake 2.

Thinking we'd have pulled pork for lunch.

I put the shoulder roast in the oven at 9:00, and the smaller tenderloin in at about 10. They needed to cook at 220 degrees until they reached an internal temp of 200 degrees.

This is the shoulder at 12:30 (not for lunch then...)

at 2:30 (hmm. what can we snack on?)

and at 4:30  When I lost patience with the whole thing and turned off the oven.

was it worth it? Oh yes indeed. After 1 1/2 hours standing time, this was dinner:

That's the tenderloin on the left, the shoulder on the right.
both were wowza, but the tenderloin was
just that little bit wowzier.

   We'll be trying this again, and soon. Maybe even next week, when my carnivorous adult-type children will be making me happy by bringing their hungry tummies to my house. (yay!)

I know, I know, craziness lies ahead. Still, I hope.

I hope that maybe twice this week, you are epiphanically struck by the truth that this season is, at its core, about loving, and being loved. And that you're an important part of the loving.

I hope that maybe once a day, you're gently aware of the kindnesses that salt your days.

And that the awarness unfolds into gratitude for those whose kindness you receive, and whose company you enjoy.

even, and especially, if the company you find yourself enjoying is your own. 

Menus on Wednesday!