Iced in today, I never left the house. I did some work while Dear Son napped (and I napped a little myself). In the spare moments, I thought about the dinner I will be cooking on Thursday. We're having friends over, a couple we've know for a long time and their 9-month old daughter.
I'll be cooking the turkey and a few of the side dishes. Of all the things to consider when we had a baby, I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to the hostess with the mostess any more, at least for a while. You just can't pull out all the stops when you are sitting down every few minutes to help put shapes in a shape sorter or to read a Sandra Boynton book. Again.
Nevertheless, I pondered a few alternate cranberry recipes today. Considered variations on mashed potatoes. Reflected on the nuances of green bean casserole, which I love. I moved the turkey from the freezer to the fridge to begin thawing. I've pondered brining, but my husband doesn't like juicy turkey (I know!), so no brine this year. (Though I still strive for moist turkey.)
Even with all this thinking ahead, I'm no kitchen perfectionist. There won't be garnishes on the side dishes. No fancy folded napkins. No hand-carved radishes, ice sculptures or centerpieces. Just family, food and fun.
The truth is, I'm not much of a perfectionist in anything. I don't worry about the details (and, occasionally, I should) because I think they'll either get taken care of or they won't matter.
I've read historical accounts of buildings, tapestries, gardens, etc. that would have a small flaw worked in because no one creates anything perfect except for God. Yeah, allowing one flaw is not my problem.
In the end, though, if I can't be gracious and forgiving to myself, what am I gaining? It's not that I'm a slob with a microwaved turkey and Potato Buds. No, I'll be roasting, mashing, sampling and attempting to plate attractively. But I do think what will matter most is the company, the memories, the thanksgiving. And that will be perfect through the work of the Spirit, regardless of my cooking.
I'll be cooking the turkey and a few of the side dishes. Of all the things to consider when we had a baby, I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to the hostess with the mostess any more, at least for a while. You just can't pull out all the stops when you are sitting down every few minutes to help put shapes in a shape sorter or to read a Sandra Boynton book. Again.
Nevertheless, I pondered a few alternate cranberry recipes today. Considered variations on mashed potatoes. Reflected on the nuances of green bean casserole, which I love. I moved the turkey from the freezer to the fridge to begin thawing. I've pondered brining, but my husband doesn't like juicy turkey (I know!), so no brine this year. (Though I still strive for moist turkey.)
Even with all this thinking ahead, I'm no kitchen perfectionist. There won't be garnishes on the side dishes. No fancy folded napkins. No hand-carved radishes, ice sculptures or centerpieces. Just family, food and fun.
The truth is, I'm not much of a perfectionist in anything. I don't worry about the details (and, occasionally, I should) because I think they'll either get taken care of or they won't matter.
I've read historical accounts of buildings, tapestries, gardens, etc. that would have a small flaw worked in because no one creates anything perfect except for God. Yeah, allowing one flaw is not my problem.
In the end, though, if I can't be gracious and forgiving to myself, what am I gaining? It's not that I'm a slob with a microwaved turkey and Potato Buds. No, I'll be roasting, mashing, sampling and attempting to plate attractively. But I do think what will matter most is the company, the memories, the thanksgiving. And that will be perfect through the work of the Spirit, regardless of my cooking.
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