Twice Thanksgiving

This was the first year that my parents told me not come to their house for Thanksgiving. 

Oh, yes.  But not out of spite or harpiness, but simply because my parents have decided that this was the year that all married children eat at their in-laws’ houses.  Next year, we’ll all be back at home.  (My mom said “we get the odd-numbered years, because we’re so odd.”)

So . . . dinner in Provo.  Brian and I were in charge of making my family’s luscious secret-recipe rolls, and acquiring a fancy cheese plate.  Oooh, fancy cheese!  My heart rejoiceth at the thought of thee!  Cheese is REALLY something to be thankful for, no?  Brian’s family had never had a cheese board as part of Thanksgiving; Brian and I got the idea beacause our friends from Pittsburgh, the Seppis, always began holiday meals with one.

Brian and I spent an evening sniffing wedges at the Harmon’s quite excellent cheese counter, and this is what we picked:

  • Morbier — this is a cheese with two layers, separated by a fine border of ash.  The bottom part is from the morning milking, and the top from the evening milking.  It was voted the favorite.
  • Mimolette — a carrot-orange, medium-strong hard cheese.  We bought it for color.
  • Onetic Tomme Noir — a mild white cheese with a black rind.  I found the day after that it makes the best turkey sandwiches.
  • Stilton — the classic British blue cheese.
  • Sage Darby — white and green cheese that we bought again for color.  I think the sage flavor was a little overpowering.
  • French Bouche — a creamy soft goat cheese
  • Barely Buzzed — a locally made cheese; the rind is rubbed with crushed espresso beans and lavender
  • Cahill’s Porter – a white cheese with chocolate-brown marbeling, it’s made with beer.  Its dramatic coloring is in weird contrast to its mild flavor; it was good, but we were disappointed.

And yeah — there was turkey, sweet potatoes, and whatnot.  We stayed up late playing “Sets & Runs,” which I believe is not so much a game as a way to torture your mind.

After that, came Thanksgiving Two: my mom called everyone up last-minute and invited us up to West Point on Friday night to eat leftovers together and play games.  Because all of my siblings were there, and we were eating a full Thanksgiving spread (oooh, heavenly shrimp salad!) it was like we just had two holidays in a row.  After eating, we all stayed up late playing Rock Band.  (I achieved a not-too-shabby 28 phrase streak with “Pinball Wizard.”)  Jeffrey had fun playing on a disconnected bass guitar.  Patrick and Erich rocked the guitar solos.  My 13 year old brother pronounced “Blitzkrieg Pop” as “Bla-gitz-krieg.” 

And much thankfulness was proclaimed by all.

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