Thanksgiving with the Andersons

What? Did you not see this one coming? How could I not include the Anderson Thanksgiving?! That would be absolutely despicable!

We got started early, of course, because if you're going to feed this family you need more than a day to cook! This "beautacious" pumpkin pie was baked by yours truly and the Rolling Resistor (visit his awesome blog at http://rollingresistor.blogspot.com) on Saturday afternoon. Both first-timers, this pie was indeed monumental. Thank God it tasted monumental, too.

This gorgeous Thursday morning presented leftover donuts and a list of chores to prep the house for the maiden visit to our new house by King and Queen Anderson (aka Gram and Papa). Mom swirled around the kitchen, using her momtastic mommagic to concoct a tryptophan, carbohydrate extravaganza...

1:30-- Andersons arrive! After getting lost of course, because it seems no one can ever find our house the first time around.

Crackers and a funky cheese ball thingy are served, football is watched, conversation is made--- 

we wait.

And soon enough we find ourselves around the table, hand-in-hand, as Dad blesses the food. This moment might just be the best part of Thanksgiving, because even though we're drooling over overflowing plates, we have food on our plates. I have a family to drool over it with, and we roll out with enough turkey and stuffing in our bellies to last weeks on end. Even if the gravy was lumpy, or the dogs attacked the cheese ball while we weren't looking, I have the best life ever. And that is my pre-meal epiphany.

Now for the stuffing!

This year's menu featured all the favorites, and luckily, a buttload of leftovers to stock the fridge and make sandwiches until Christmas!

• Butterball Turkey
• Stuffing/Dressing, whatever floats your boat
• Cranberries, to smother the turkey
• Gravy, to smother everything
• Marshmallow Yams (secretly a dessert...)
• Rolls, to sop up all the smotherings you got carried away with
• and last and definitely least, green beans. Mom admitted that she felt we needed a green on the table. Let me inform you that she did not actually eat any.

6 empty plates later, or 5 empty plates later because I was still working on a hefty second portion, we fell into food comas and told old stories about this and that, and "back in the day..." and  got all nostalgic and sappy about everything families get sappy about. It was wonderful, I connote no sarcasm whatsoever, it was indeed quite nice.

Nice because, each story stalled the big stink awaiting me:

Thanksgiving dishes.

Now you know I don't mind dishes, it is my niche of the kitchen after all. But all you experienced short-stick drawers like me know that it takes some real elbow grease to scrape out that turkey pan. Whew. It takes endurance. That is not for the faint of heart.

After scrubbing the equivalent of a 5K, I was ready for dessert.

It was good.

Enough said.

(I don't remember too much, you know, I was in a food coma.)

And soon enough, it was time to wave goodbye to our senior Anderson extension, and get ready for a super-duper post-Thanksgiving party! Woo!

So we hopped in the hot tub and hopped out, and now it is time to get a head-start on the holiday season with the grand viewing of the one, the only.... Elf!

Have a spectacular Thanksgiving weekend, folks, I look forward to reading all of your "I'm thankful for..." Facebook posts!

But really- be merry, be thankful, and remember the 4 main food groups:

Candy, candy canes, candy corns, and syrup! :D

(Disclaimer: the Andersons strictly belong to the Anti-Black Friday Association. Do not, repeat, do not expect any Black Friday posts or pictures, because we simply would rather spend the day in our pajamas mocking the people getting trampled for that half-price LED TV. To all of you Pro-Black Friday-ians, good luck out there.)

Saturday with the Andersons

Lately, the Andersons have been spending their Saturdays sacked out on the couch after long, tedious weeks, indulging in some college football and finger food, slaving only when we must at petty chores, making the finger food, and that wicked thing they call homework...

But this Saturday was much too good to resist, Mom declared as she dragged me out of bed before 8 o'clock. No, the homework monster could wait! they said. I would have all day to spend some quality time with him tomorrow, because today was the day. Today was the day our lazy bums would soak up some Vitamin-D!

Off to the Green Market, we go, mouths watering for some over-priced overly-delicious pastries! And it's not a meal unless we all steal morsels of each others'. Dad's quiche definitely won the prize, even though he scarfed it down before my fork could stake out a second bite. (Thanks, Dad!) 

Despite being awoken before my preferred hour, I'll admit- it was worth it. Days like these can't be enjoyed from the bland comfort of the couch!

After eyeing all the hipsters, characters, seniors, undercover millionaires and their dogs (we're in Palm Beach people!) and of course the menagerie of delectable treats on display, the Andersons drove home to drop the car off and walk over to the movies to see the newest flick, Lincoln. 

"Abe! Abe! Abe! Abe!"

I'm sure all the sweet old folk thought Dad and I were nuts, but that's alright. I like to imagine Mr. Lincoln looking down on us and chuckling, "Crazy kids..."

For being the president during the ugliest, bloodiest period in our history, the man had a great sense of humor.

The day didn't stop with our presidential cheerleading, though, because at 5 o'clock we had nabbed a reservation at a brand new rodizio restaurant. 

Never before have our carnivorous consciences been so stimulated.

(Vegetarians and vegans, discretion is advised.)

MEAT. HEAVEN.

And it just kept coming, and coming--Steak and lamb and pork and chicken and more steak and sausage and shrimp and more steak and the best grilled pineapple one will ever taste in all of earthly living.

If it hadn't been for the eternal meat train, I would've lost my marbles to the droning elevator music, the gluten-free bread and the people who kept begging to get me a clean plate. They were getting in the way of that bacon-wrapped filet that was whispering my name! And the good Lord knows the Andersons don't like anyone hindering their acquisition of proteins. We'll keep our semi-filthy plates, thank you.

7 o'clock and 4 stuffed bellies later, we rolled out. Tonight they were lighting the Christmas tree at CityPlace, but the main attraction was not the tall twinkling artificial pine extravaganza, no, it was the "snow" anticipated to blast from unknown origins (which turned out to be on top of the palm trees) other than the sky. The Andersons love snow that you don't have to shovel, snow that doesn't scream chapped faces, puffed parkas and frozen fingers. Even if it smells kind of like Dawn dish soap.

And thus, the Andersons love Florida.

Monkeys and Penguins

What is a clan without their own unique lingo? Thought I'd share some exclusive Anderson family jargon, some that extend to our crazy Hoover and AnderBurg appendages!
So lap it up, y'all! (Okay, that one I made up on the spot, we don't actually say that, no worries.)

"No worries" 

-THE most commonly used phrase. Used as a substitute for "it's okay" or "don't worry". It can be added to the end of just about every single sentence, or the beginning of every single sentence--

"Whatever floats your boat!"

Ah ha, classic....


Sorry to intrude, but are any of you out there suffering from *cough*cough* phlegm?
If you are, Grampy Hoover has some advice for you:

"Spit that #&%$ out!"

I never said we were all that refined! But it's true, you should seriously spit it out. 


"Sliced"

This one was acquired just last year, when the AnderBurgs took their premiere cruise to the Caribbean at New Years. On the island of Antigua, we ordered some fish from a seaside food shack. When we asked the lady what kind of fish, she simply answered, "Sliced." And that's all she wrote, folks. Sliced is now the go-to adjective of all things that ooze the variable c. You can bet what we put on our t-shirts for this year's cruise.


"The Monkey"

Well, guys, I'm going to be honest. I saw a monkey in the woods by the road one day. I know what I saw, and what I saw was a monkey. For this truth I suffer perpetual flak. Now you know why they all smirk when anyone mentions the monkey. Now you know...


"Remember who you are."

This may just be the Anderson family motto! God knows I hear it enough- every time I'm unleashed into this big wide world! In other words, yes, please remember that you are a civilized and well-raised human being, but more importantly, remember that you all belong to some kind of clan of nuts- it's in our blood. And sometimes who you are is someone who sees monkeys in the middle of Oklahoma.

And sometimes who you are is someone who hugs humongous blue concrete penguins. 

And that's a-okay!

Ode to the Anderson Sunday Stupor

Sunday

the sacred last moment of homely peace,
the last sip of the bottle of weekend.

So wake up and smell the bacon
Open your eyes to the seeping sunbeams streaming and
the dogs ever a-yapping at some
probably nonexistent boogeyman out back

So follow your nostrils to the
scrumptious Southern masterpiece
of this sabbath day

Biscuits and jam and
ink on my fingers
Coffee-sipping sleepy-eyed undead of the
dawn-
The dawn of 10 o'clock

Peruse the hallowed
(New York Times)
and don't touch the Book Review, Mom wants it
I want the magazine I'm done with this but
no no no I haven't read that yet This is
the done pile

And maybe we'll be done enlightening ourselves at 11
And maybe it will be 12
And maybe we won't get dressed for a while
And maybe there will be a to-do list
And maybe we'll watch some football
And maybe we will get out of the house
once or twice

But if we don't, that's just
Alright.

Because it will be 7 more days until
the next hot breakfast
And 7 more days until
the next fat newspaper
7 whole, humdrum days
Until the next unfettered phase in our pajamas to simply

be.

And if every other dysfunctional family functions in such a fashion,

It's no wonder we all hate Monday...

What's your Monday face?