Thursday, 22 November 2012

Thanksgiving...Part One.

When someone hears that I've moved to Scotland, one of the first questions they ask is usually about what I'm planning to do for the holidays. Am I going home? How can I be in a foreign country for Thanksgiving? Or worse, Christmas?!
The unfortunate truth is that plane tickets are expensive, and I am living on a student budget. I have to make my own version of the holidays here in Glasgow. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I have around 20 people coming to my five-person flat for dinner. A good friend is even flying over from Ireland to spend the weekend with me. I'm so lucky! I'll have a bazillion people to keep me company tomorrow. 
I made Thanksgiving dinner by myself two years ago, after my Mama had surgery. It was stressful, to say the least. But I'm so thankful  for that experience because now I know what to do. 

First things first, I had to call a Thanksgiving Summit:

If you look closely, you can see the outline of a hand turkey on the next page. We're very serious about our Thanksgiving, people.

Second, we had to acquire a turkey:

The turkey search involved two Scottish men (my boyfriend and his flatmate), three very excited American girls, and a trip to the giant Tesco in Maryhill. My wonderful boyfriend even carried this 14 pound turkey home for us. 

Then began the day of preparation: 

In the absence of the handy frozen hash browns we have back home, we had to grate all the potatoes for the hash brown casserole. 

It turns out shallots are just baby onions. Evil baby onions that make your eyes burn like the fires of Mordor.

No Southern girl would dream of cooking Thanksgiving dinner without her cast-iron skillet.

After a long day of prep and another long (but wonderful!) day to come tomorrow, I think I should probably be getting to bed. I'm hoping that everything tastes delicious tomorrow and that I don't accidentally poison everyone with the turkey. I may have done this before, but I'm still nervous. Wish me luck!


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All materials on this blog belong to me, unless stated otherwise. I try to give credit where it is due, but the internet is a vast wasteland of images separated from their creators. If you own something I post that is not attributed to you, please contact me and I will fix it stat. STAT. Like a doctor running down the hallways of the hospital to restart someone's heart. Exactly like that.