Ah, nothing says Thanksgiving or Christmas quite like rising at 0500 to get the turkey put into the oven. Because, let’s face it, there’s nothing worse than having all the sides ready, but the whole family is sitting around, waiting for the turkey to finish cooking. It’s the time of year when we wish we had at least three ovens, a warming tray, and a couple of housekeepers to clean behind us as we go.
I had originally planned on prepping as much of the food as possible last night before I went to bed, but after the botched attempt at Parker House rolls, I decided I’d rather cook today than spend an all-nighter. It all started like this…
I love that my husband wants to help keep the house clean. But, his definition of clean and mine don’t exactly jive. What he truly wants is a de-cluttered house. This means no art projects sitting out on the table, none of Carson’s toys laying about, and everything in its place. Meanwhile, I’m okay with a little clutter as long as the floors are clean, the furniture is dusted, and all surfaces (to include toilets and bathtubs) have been thoroughly scrubbed. I tell you all this because yesterday, as I was starting on my rolls, I realized the clay project we started on the other day was now dry and could be painted. So, while the milk mixture was cooling, I was going to start painting. Except I couldn’t find the paint. Anywhere. Asking Ryan resulted in, “I don’t know. I haven’t done anything with it.” Yeah. Right. He gets in ‘de-clutter mode’ and starts swiping away at surfaces–depositing random objects in the most random places so that visible surfaces, like our dining room table, will be clutter-free and pristine. So, that began a fifteen minute search for the paint and paintbrushes we had just purchased. Then, I went back to my rolls, as I figured the milk had cooled enough. Into the mixer went the ingredients, and I started adding the flour. But, the dough never came together. After about eight cups of flour, I realized I had a lost cause in front of me. I thought maybe the Georgia humidity was to blame, but that thought had no longer formed when I spotted the salt. I had left out the salt. I’m not a professionally trained chef, and I don’t know for sure that salt was the key, but I do know that without salt, those rolls would have been pretty bland. And, at this point, it was getting to be dark-thirty, and I still needed to go feed Johnny and brave the Thanksgiving Wal-Mart crowds.
So, I left it all right there. Dough still in the mixer, mess in the kitchen. When I returned from the barn and Wal-Mart two hours later, it was all still there. (Yes, I had hoped that maybe the mess would magically have cleaned itself.) The dough had of course risen like it was trying to escape the bowl, and I cringed as I dumped it into the trash. What a waste. By the time I cleaned up the mess and washed all the dishes, I realized I’d had enough for the day. I threw down my towel and went to bed.
So, this morning, I’ve already got the turkey in the oven, and I’m still debating on whether I truly want to attempt a pie crust at some point. Historically, I have a little trouble with pie crust…it tends not to be so pretty. Wish me luck.