Passing a Thanksgiving Dinner

Lest you think my topic is about a certain moving of the bowels, let me clarify: I speak instead of that choice, made by the wary eater, to skip a plate full of turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing and cranberry sauce when offered to them. We know these people by a bevy of names: Lunatics, Crazy Talkers, Pesticide for the Soul, Gastronomical Idiots, Sun-Dried Doodle Berries, The Wrong... I could go on. You know one of these people. You might, in fact, Batali save you, be one of these people. If you read the description above and thought: "Yes. That is me," do not worry. There is still hope. If you read the menu above and thought: "Boy, I truly can't stomach all that food," fear not, for I can save you. And this is how.

You've been eating Thanksgiving dinner much too late.

In years past, my family and I have eaten this annual feast at around, oh, six o' clock. You know, dinner-time. (Note: My house's D.T. is normally around 9:00pm, but that is for another discussion.) It makes sense, really--The pilgrims didn't call it Thanksgiving Brunch, after all! (Note: They called it 'Gratuitous Slaughter of Mainlanders with Wacky Hairdos,' though no official records remain.)

But a few problems occur when you wait so long for such a mammoth meal. You inevitably snack. The cooks are cooking their annual delights; people gather and linger near the kitchen. You sneak a morsel of dark meat here... you scrape a cracker into lump-crab artichoke dip there. You fill your glass, again, with the smooth, thick creaminess of Egg Nog. By the time dinner-time rolls around, you barely have room in your tiny tummy for that first buttered roll, let alone the meat and the taters and all dem loverly fixins'. So my suggestion to you, fair gluttonous warrior -- Eat Thanksgiving Dinner at noon. That's right. 12:oo pm. Call it 'High' if you wish, for you will be soon on all that glorious seratonin coursing through your nourished-by-midday body. I love my breakfast, but sometimes, on those special occasions where long-lost-relatives gather to cook their beloved Cauliflower Casserole and whisk together some potato water and meat scraps into a thick, bountiful gravy, sometimes you need to hold off on the pancakes and tuck into an evening's meal six hours early.

Soon to come: More ideas gleaned from a Very-PA Turkey Day, including Egg Nog Coffee Creamer, and the ludicrous splendor that is Rita's Kielbasa with Pineapple.