Jonathan and Meg and I came up to spend the holiday with his family. Thanksgiving came off really well here - everyone was thankful, the food was amazing, Meg put together puzzles all day long, and I made the pies. We actually had sweet potatoes three ways (!?). There was a pan of mashed sweet potatoes, half with marshmallow topping, half with Ree Drummond's crumble topping, and then we used this recipe from Guy Fieri for sweet potatoes and apples with a whiskey-pecan sauce. It gave it this great woody kick. Definitely a keeper.
It's always interesting to see how other families do Thanksgiving. I knew that his family put sausage in their stuffing and liked their green beans crisp, but come to find out I take them aback by putting that little letter "s" on the end of "pie," as in, "I'll bring the pies." I thought two or three pies was standard. They're pretty much happy as long as there's pumpkin. Who knew? I did make a pumpkin pie, which turned out very nice indeed, but my usual mad apple-pie skills kind of deserted me today. It came out slightly burned on top and really liquid underneath, with a soggy crust. Oh well. The cinnamon apples in the middle were good.
However. We did have some slight excitement with the nutmeg. Jonathan's mom had a brand-new jar of it, so it was still very bright and fragrant, and I successfully peeled the top off. I thought the danger was passed and was about to grab a measuring spoon when it made a break for it. WHOOSH! FREEDOM! The jar leaped out of my hand and sprayed nutmeg grounds all over everything, counter to ballet flats. (She only thought she'd bought a six-year supply.) Nutmeg was my signature scent for the day.
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