Mixed Plate: Viva La Thanksgiving

And here we are yet again... another Thanksgiving ready to unfurl its tryptophan wings and cast us into a turkey-stuffing-pie food coma vortex. And for those readying to battle the Black Friday shopping crowds, I salute you with a less than enthusiastic wave of a half-eaten turkey leg. Instead of showing a typical Thanksgiving pastoral, I opted to share photos from a recent trip to The Ninth Island (aka, Las Vegas), when my family and I gathered for my cousin Deven's birthday. It wasn't Thanksgiving and there wasn't a roasted turkey to be seen, but it got me thinking about what makes any holiday worthwhile. It's the time we set aside to spend with family, the rare moments everyone's in the same place at the same time, and the chance to sit back and gaze at the family gene pool party. Dive in, y'all, it's the holidays.

See, Las Vegas isn't all seedy hookers and pimps - they keep the nice stuff under glass - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Does our family always get together like this for a birthday? No. But when someone says they want their birthday in Vegas, it's as if God spoke and the whole family jumps on a plane to heed this Almighty call. My cousin Deven turned 42, which is a significant year in Japanese culture -- yakudoshi, like a rite of passage, or a year of chaos, depending on what Google tells you -- so it all basically translates to: let's have a big-ass party. I think that's what every culture is based on, be it feast or famine, we relish the opportunity to celebrate something. It's a good thing, as Saint Martha would say. And that's kind of what Thanksgiving is like, because we're not really celebrating the fact that the Pilgrims came from afar to bring a persecuted religion and smallpox to a trustworthy, indigenous people, we just want an excuse to go on a carb-binge with the cornbread stuffing, eat three pieces of pumpkin pie (with whipped cream), and pass out on the couch by three in the afternoon. Ahh... tradition.

As luck would have it (har-har), my Wasabi Family Vegas Extravaganza took place over Halloween week, so that explains the spooktacular past-due holiday photos. Unlike typical family jaunts to Las Vegas, we made sure to plan some quality family time, like seeing a show and then a nice family dinner on Deven's birthday. There was also a trip to the Hoover Dam, but I missed that, as I was already en route back to rainy Washington, but from what I heard, Hoover Dam was dam good. I will say this -- when you live in the Pacific Northwest and it's already in the middle of nonstop rain and zero-dark-thirty by four in the afternoon, taking a short trip to the sunnier skies of Nevada is like a shot of adrenaline. The temperature is no longer three times the surface of the sun, it remained in the pleasant upper seventies to low eighties, and there was barely a cloud in the sky. My lackluster Vitamin D levels jump at the thought of it.

From rain to shine - a vacation from the rain-soaked Pacific Northwest - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Halloween week in Las Vegas is about what you'd guess -- people dressed in costume, running around Downtown and The Strip, with you playing that mental game in your head: Halloween costume or actual stripper/pimp? October is also the pesky month where a lot of performers go on vacation and the shows take breaks, since it's typically a low-season time, but my cousin found a show he wanted to see -- Criss Angel's Believe at the Luxor -- and seeing a rock n' roll illusion show was actually pretty fitting for Halloween night. I'm always amazed at Las Vegas performers with regular shows, many doing two performances a night, weekdays through weekends. Most people's offices are a little cubicle, but a performer's office is a stage full of pyrotechnics, scary-looking props and a live crowd, which I think can be the scariest thing of all. Regardless of what performer you see in Las Vegas, you can never deny them the art of showmanship and the ability to keep a crowd's attention, which I think is magic all its own.

Vegas Halloween, and the cage where the gambling cheats go - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I was simply told, "Bring a wig," from my other cousin and aunt helping to plan this Halloween Night outing. As good a suggestion as any, really. So a few of us wigged-out, wore funny glasses and we spent a night on The Strip, catching a magic show and seeing all sorts of crazy stuff in and out of the casinos on All Hallow's Eve. I'd have brought my cat's ears headband, but Indy was still using it.

Just like any other night in Las Vegas - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Despite all the family time, I did steal away for a few hours to wander the Strip one afternoon. I mostly wanted to visit the Bellagio and see their seasonal garden display. I'm not a gambler, so seeing pretty garden stuff is my granny-old lady highlight. As always, they aim to impress and the gorgeous autumn harvest-themed display in the atrium area is a must-see, whether you're planning on gambling your kid's college fund away or not.

Talking trees, giant pumpkins and oh yes... WINE! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I managed to snap a few photos of the delightful pastries in one of the Bellagio's specialty bakeries, Jean Phillipe. This bakery is hard to miss -- it's in the retail area and you'll be drawn to the ceiling-high fountain of melted chocolate cascading down a sculpture of blown glass. You're amazed, then you kind of shake your head, thinking: only in Las Vegas. I had to take a moment and admire the beautiful Halloween themed desserts. I know we're not thinking of ghosts and goblins anymore, but you can't help but adore these sweets. I couldn't bear to eat something so cute, so I picked up some buttery, flaky croissant -- chocolate and almond -- and some of their pretty chocolate-dipped biscotti. Maybe not as precious as a pastry ghost, but just as delicious.

Spooky sweets at Jean Phillipe Bakery in the Bellagio - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The Bellagio is pretty close to Caesar's Palace, so I ran in there just to visit their Vosges Chocolate boutique. Their chocolates are exquisite, as is their packaging. Purple boxes and ribbons -- Prince would feel very at-home. I can usually find their bacon-chocolate bar at Whole Foods, but their real gems are of course their truffles, which you either have to order by mail or visit one of their shops. A stupid amount of money later, I had a shopping bag full of holiday gifts, more sweets for my cousin's birthday celebration, and even something sweet to bring home to the Mister. It felt like a total Vegas Moment, shopping for luxury chocolates, surrounded by fake Greek statues and wondering just how the hell they built that spiraling escalator in The Forum Shops.

Hail Caesar and your bitchin' shopping mall - Photos by Wasabi Prime

As a travel note -- if you find yourself buying stuff and wondering if everything will fit into your suitcase, there is a UPS Store right in the Flamingo Hotel, which is right across from Caesar's Palace. Why more hotels don't have UPS Stores is beyond me, but I'm glad for that convenience. It might be an expensive way to get things home, but the way airlines charge for bags, you're spending over twenty five bucks either way, so may as well not have to carry it yourself.

Family dinner time, Election Day-style! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

On the night of my cousin Deven's birthday, his sister Dawn and my Aunt Sharon made sure everyone was decked out in election-themed gear they made ahead of time. Buttons, pamphlets, the whole deal. Not that my cousin is running for office, but at the time, election felt like a fitting theme, plus I have an uncle who's a state senator and his own campaign brochures made for good inspiration material. The whole family gathered at the Second Street Grill in the Fremont Hotel -- because Downtown Vegas is how Hawaii folks roll -- and we wore our fake-candidate buttons proudly for Deven's birthday dinner. Like some crazy Hunger Games thing, we made a "tribute" to Deven and his love of chocolate, piling gifts of sweets from all over the world on the center of the table. I know it wasn't Thanksgiving, but it felt like a long-overdue holiday gathering made even more special since people had to travel a ways to meet up. My cousin Dawn wins the Mileage Award, having traveled all the way from Sweden to attend her brother's birthday. All this and us cousins didn't have to sit at the kiddie table -- who says Vegas isn't a town for winners?

Food, family and funny photos while on The Ninth Island - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Much like Thanksgiving itself, the trip was full of big meals, but it was less about the food and more about the time it gave us to spend together. It was a reminder that no matter what the occasion, however funky the location, time with family is a rare gift. Costume wigs optional. I don't live close to my family, the closest immediate relative is a state away and my parents are nearly an ocean away, so this trip was like Thanksgiving and Christmas, all rolled up into one. I honestly can't think of the last time so many of us got together like this and I can't think of when we'll be able to do this again. So as you gather to feast upon the turkey, raise your head from your plate for a moment to see who's sitting with you. Be thankful for the occasion that brings you and your crazy clan of family members together for a night. Viva La Thanksgiving, y'all.

Mixed Plate: Feast of the Beast

I could have used that age-old Prince reference and say we were partying like it was 1999 when the year came to a close, but it was more like, it was around midnight when the Meat Sweats kicked in. For whatever flash of temporary insanity my court-appointed lawyer would insist I plea to, a brief moment of madness is all I can come up with to explain why our New Year's Eve became a carnivorous meat feast, which included a 10-pound smoked ham, 16 pounds of roasted turkey flesh (and a fake inflatable bird for show), a large London Broil, platters of charcuterie, and a sweet finish of bacon brownies and bacon/chocolate chip cookies. Are your pores weeping animal fat yet? Mine are.

We Wish You a Happy New Year and a Night of Meat Sweats - Photo by Wasabi Prime

This sounds like a fearful New Years Eve gathering, no? Sinewy cuts of muscle and tendon, tender rivulets of fat and the crackle of salted crisped skin... mmmm... tasty. Maybe I watched too many episodes of The Walking Dead, but the desire to leave out platefuls of fleshy protein goodness was a temptation too good to pass up. A typical New Years Eve gathering with a single roast and some fussy stuffed mushroom caps just seemed "been there, done that," and we owed some friends who have always hosted holiday get-togethers a proper "thank you." We had a few folks come over, a group of full-on Meatatarians who didn't have any big NYE plans and just wanted to keep it intimate, casual and totally carnivorous. It was also a safe option, as we are all hearty boozejuice imbibers, and while our livers are strong with The Force, having it at a house made it easy for people to stay over and not take any unnecessary road risks. We could all Release the Kraken with abandon, with a hearty supply of protein to slow the inevitable demise of brain cells into 2012.


Meat o' Clock... and all's well! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

To be honest, all that barnyard animal fodder wasn't eaten in a single night. Yes, I cooked a 16-pound turkey, but after you break it down and remove the non-meaty parts, you're left with maybe 13 pounds of the edible stuff, likely less once it's cooked. I did a dry rub of Southwestern spices on the bird and let it marinate in the fridge for about two days. I seared everything off in a hot pan and then finished it in the oven. Once it was cool enough to handle, I pulled every scrap of meat off the bones and sliced down the breast into bite-sized chunks. The bird was literally shredded apart, and the meat was used to stuff tacos for the party. Turkey tacos -- Turkos, as Mr. Wasabi was calling them. I know it's not as pretty as showing off a centerpiece roast, but most casual parties are grazing events, you want something you can snack on. The soft corn tortillas got messy towards the end, but I left forks out for easier eating. I did something similar with the large London broil I cooked -- it was seared and sliced thin, then stuffed into a baguette smeared with Dijon mustard and an herb/oil/citrus sauce similar to chimichurri, which was a nice alternative to typical mustard and mayo on bread. The sauce gave the sandwich some bite and the ability to enjoy steak wrapped in bread is a little easier for casual grazing.


Heavenly Smoked Ham, the Menu for the Night and a Classy Fireside View - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The smoked ham, purchased from our local BBQ-erie, Armadillo BBQ, right on Main Street in Duvall, was a bone-in half ham, and I cut more than three-quarters of the smoky delicious ham up for the party, but saved a chunk or three for us, frozen/hoarded away for later use. I also removed the bone and froze it, to be used for what will I'm sure be a delightful soup at a later date. The big meaty chunks of ham were so delicious -- they were eaten with no extra seasoning, enjoyed hot and cold, a perfect meat to just leave out at a party and let guests pick away. My mother would do the same thing for her holiday parties, just leave a giant spiral-cut ham or two out, and people would pick at it when it was still hot, but it became ravaged by a hungry meat-zombie horde, later in the evening when it was cooled and perfect to make ham sandwiches, piling on slices of cheese and other meats from the cold cuts platter. Ah, memories...
 

Party Prep, Enjoying the Last of the Holidays and Indy gets VIP Seating - Photos by Wasabi Prime

 For all the scary meat-zombie references and the savaging of barnyard beasties, I did make an effort to make the house party-ready. I even wore a funny hat. We didn't have enough seating for a sit-down meal, so I purposely spread all the chairs around the house to create cozy gathering nooks for people to sit, as guests often tend to break off into smaller sub-groups. The buffet table was meant to be a fueling spot, and the kitchen countertop became an open bar, with easy access to opened bottles of wine, beer, a very boozy cider and yes, even mead! We are lucky to have friends who not only make beer but cider and mead as well, which they were kind to bring. People also brought bottles of Scotch, which was very nice, plus it was an invitation for Brock to pull out his own supply of good liquors, like his special bottle of Pappy Van Winkle and a variety of Scotch he's collected. Again, this is why we have a spare bedroom, a fold-out couch and a downstairs area with plenty of room to set up a fold-out bed -- although one guest had the preparedness to bring his own air mattress. Party Professional.

Releasing the Kraken with a Variety of  Drinks, and Archer Episodes Aplenty - Photos by Wasabi Prime

When I say parties often mean guests branching off and having their own mini social gatherings, I mean the girls went off and drank wine while the boys sat and watched Archer episodes on Netflix. Don't worry, we all came together in time to see the bell toll 2012, but there was a lot of raunchy laughs throughout the night, and that's just how things go at Casa de Wasabi, love it or leave it. This might sound appalling to party planners and etiquette mavens, the watching of naughty cartoons during a gathering, but by the time I was several glasses into the rum-spiked hot cider, I fully accepted that the party was no longer within my OCD planner control, it was a creature existing on its own. So I let it run free and wild like some rabid ferret in a yarn store. I tipped a tipsy glass in honor of the party gods, cried, Havoc! And let loose the Bacchanalian dogs of war - 2012 was greeted with only a partial sense of awareness.

Meaty Just Desserts - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I didn't let dessert go untouched by The Magical Animal. I meant it when I said I made bacon brownies. I took a favorite dark chocolate brownie recipe and sprinkled in crisped bacon crumbles before baking off the batter. I've made variations of bacon brownies before, and they're pretty rich and often times the chocolate can overtake the bacon, so you kind of miss the fact there's little porcine bits of goodness in there. Although that's kind of a good thing, because a big ol' greasy bite of bacon in a brownie is a little gross. But the real treat was the browned butter bacon and chocolate chip cookies. This was a recipe I got from Edible Seattle Magazine and it's a winner. Honestly, add browned butter to anything and it makes it better, but in this recipe, it heightens the savory-ness of the cookie, which works well with the chunks of bacon. Yes, browning the butter takes an extra step, and it will make the batter extra sticky, so you'll need to give it some time in the fridge to cool and harden before forming into the cookies, but the flavor impact is worth it. When cooking off the bacon, I actually reserved and strained the fat, adding some to both the brownie and cookie batter, to add even more pork flavored goodness. I know this sounds like a criminal act, all this use of lard, but I figure, it's not something I make every day and at least with a party, the naughtiness is spread out across a group. Much like Avian Flu. Plus, I sent the mister off to work with the leftover brownies, so we wouldn't be totally buried in temptation. But I admit, chocolate chip cookies (bacon or not) are my weakness, so I kept those leftovers for myself. If you don't hear from me in a few days, call 911, I've probably keeled over from a massive coronary.

2012's Arrival, Along With a Hangover Brunch and Leafy Satsumas - Photos by Wasabi Prime

And so 2011 came and went -- in like a lamb, but out like a lion, as the party kept going past 2am. People spent the night and somehow through some delayed hangover effect, I got a stick-to-your-ribs breakfast of leftover meat, hash and eggs on the table. I say delayed hangover effect, because by around 11:30 in the morning, my energy faded and I was bedridden for the rest of the day, watching a Star Wars marathon through a haze of aspirin, water and my own cursed miserable existence. But hey, I can't say New Years wasn't memorable, and supposedly this is my big year, as it's the Year of the Dragon. It must be, because man... was I draggin' on New Years Day.

Mixed Plate: Thanksgiving Eats, Sugary Sweets and Poultry Fight Club

My family was never one for big Thanksgiving celebrations, due to the fact our family wasn't particularly large (just me and my parents), and we lived far from aunts, uncles, cousins and the like. But for my childhood years in California, my parents had a lot of friends in the Los Angeles area who were in a similar situation as they were -- transplants from Hawaii, too far to go over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house for the holidays -- so everyone would gather at a friend's house, and it would be these great big potluck dinners of thirty people or more, grazing all day. It was a non-traditional mashup of Thanksgiving and Hawaii food favorites, and it was heavenly. When we moved from California to Arizona, we were further isolated, and Thanksgiving just became a nice long weekend with turkey being optional as my dad isn't a fan of the other-other white meat, and frankly, the holiday started to feel like just another day. It wasn't until moving to Washington where Thanksgiving started to mean something again. Proably because I don't travel to see family, and the need to be close to friends and loved ones, the holiday feels more pronounced. The Refugee Thanksgivings began, with us doing a couple of Turkeyday hostings for those unable to battle the holiday travel zoo, or we'd be nomads ourselves, wandering to different households who so graciously invited us to their tables to feast, which is one of the best ways to rediscover the best of what Thanksgiving is.

Turkey, before the carnage - Photo by Wasabi Prime

A checkered holiday past only made this latest Thanksgiving all the more  memorable, as it kicked up the Turkeyday celebration up a few notches. We not only celebrated across the whole holiday weekend, we started a whole week before. Some friends suggested a dinner at The Herbfarm, a well-known restaurant in Woodinville that's quite an eating experience, as most of their dinners are composed of 8 to 9 different courses, all paired with wines, and the dinners tend to go late into the evening, finishing up around 11 or midnight. It's not an everyday dinner, to be sure. Mr. Wasabi and I have gone a couple of times before -- once for a birthday and the second time for friends who had just gotten married.  And it's also nice when a group of friends who are usually accustomed to hosting a big  Thanksgiving meal, decide they don't want to fuss with a feast, but want to enjoy the holiday itself being relaxed and lazy, so fourteen of us gathered at The Herbfarm a week before Thanksgiving to have a celebratory pre-func meal. It was memorable to say the least, the courses are always exquisitely prepared, there's more wine than you can shake a stick at, and I thank the Turkeyday Gods that we were in the private room, as we are a colorful bunch. Traditionally, we all try to list the things we are thankful for, a nice way to celebrate the season. My "What I'm Thankful for" is that we were able to have a fantastic meal, have a wonderful time, and super-bonus -- we didn't get kicked out for being total berzerkers.

Herbfarm Thanksgiving Pre-Func dinner - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The week of Thanksgiving is typically like some movie montage, where it's akin to Rocky Balboa running up steps, punching sides of beef, all to the heroic underscore of a fist-pumping theme song. People are wrestling giant birds, rolling pie crusts, perusing recipe websites to the point where they crash -- America gets down with its bad self, rolls up its sleeves and enters the kitchen like a gladiator ready to do battle with a row of centurions, primed for victory. Except for me. Quite frankly, I didn't do all that much. I barely took out The Big Grownup Camera -- most of these photos, minus some prep items were all shot using the ol' iPhone. It's called a vacation. I like to take them sometimes. 

Hotpot Thanksgiving, and oh turkey, we hardly knew ye - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Because of the big whammy of The Herbfarm, it took the pressure off Thanksgiving Day-proper. So we threw tradtion to the wind, gathered at a friend's house for pizza, chili and snacks, but also one special dish -- a friend had been craving ginger duck hotpot, from when she used to live in Taiwan. It's a common comfort dish, but oddly hard to find (if anyone has a recommendation for a place in or around Seattle that makes this, please let me know). So our friend scoured the internet, tracked down a few recipes, and put together a delightfully rich meal experience that ensured that we would, indeed have a bird for Thanksgiving, but way better than turkey. I'm sorry, turkey, but duck wins out because it's so freaking delicious. It was also the centerpiece for what will be known as one of the more memorable Thanksgiving celebrations. And not without its own unique brand of entertainment, as hotpot instructions are delightfully written in Engrish. The day was devoted to watching all three Lord of the Rings movies (yes, director's cut), back to back -- twelve hours, if you're thinking of doing this. There was a lot of beer. There was a lot of wine. Our livers were put to the test starting from noon.There was also an inflatable turkey lawn decoration that met an untimely fate. Turkey MMA? Poultry Fight Club? Call it whatever you want, but to put it simply: Thanksgiving Day was Awesomesauce.

Lots of desserts, drinking, and more pie - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Not to say I did absolutely nothing, lounging around like Jabba the Hutt, enslaved Muppets at my beck and call. Which isn't such a bad idea -- next Thanksgiving, perhaps. I made pie(s). I made fudge. I even made a post-Thanksgiving full meal, turkey with all the trimmings. I think I need to be on medication, I cannot stay still for the life of me. I made a brown butter pear tart, which was just a way to whittle down our copious amounts of pears. I wanted to try something new with the typical pumpkin pie, so I made a blend of pumpkin and sweet potato, which I have to say gives the texture a slightly lighter, but grainier mouth feel. Not bad, just different. One small roasted sugar pumpkin to one peeled and boiled sweet potato was my ratio, and then I used this recipe on Epicurious for Caramel Pumpkin Pie. I have to say, adding a caramel sauce to the pumpkin mixture is, as Charlie Sheen would say: Winning. It's sweet, but a dark, rich sweetness that sets it apart from the typical pumpkin pie. I did cheat on the whipped cream, getting the canned stuff, because the dessert needed to travel. I didn't want to make the whipped cream and have it deflate by dinnertime and I don't have one of those fancy whipped cream chargers. And let's face it, after lots of beer and/or wine, whip-hits and dispensing whipped cream directly into a drunken maw is pretty fantastic.

Thanksgiving at Wasabi's house, with an extra side of gluttony - Photos by Wasabi Prime

We still had turkey, it was just the day after, because I am a compulsive crazyperson and can't stay out of the kitchen. I brined and seasoned a 14-pound bird, did my typical dismembering of parts, as it's just easier for serving and I keep the carcass for soup later, and made sides based on whatever the CSA box had delivered. I made a sweet potato and roasted squash mash, potatoes with green beans in a mustard dressing, and shredded Brussels sprouts and caramelized onions cooked with bacon. And plenty of gravy and cranberry sauce. The main thing is always the cranberry sauce and turkey, as that is Mr. Wasabi's favorite thing in the known universe. It was a total UnRecipe Thanksgiving, as there was no measuring or recipe-following. The meal literally just happened. Short of the pie, which needed internet inspiration, everything else was made by the power of winging-it and cooking with what we had. Which I suppose is appropriate, as the Pilgrims didn't have Martha Stewart or the internet back in the old school Plymouth Rock days. And if they did, it would be a miracle of Divine Providence that they ever got that meal off the ground, because damn, there are a lot of choices over what to make for this hearty meal of thanks -- no wonder people feel overwhelmed.

Oh  Fudge - Photos by Wasabi Prime

And yes, I made fudge. Because that's so Thanksgiving, right? My mother can be credited with the drilled-in idea that you don't show up anywhere empty-handed. It's the Asian Way, along with being good at math and playing the flute, piano, and/or violin. Since I stink at math and am not musical, I play my one and only cooking card. We had a couple of Thanksgiving invites, and feeling bad we had to decline on one dinner, I wanted to make sure we showed our appreciation for the invitation, so nothing says "thanks for thinking of us," like a few sugary lead-like bricks of peanut butter and chocolate fudge delivered early. The second half of the batch went to the dinner we attended. Because nothing says "thanks for letting us wreck your house like a bunch of drunken hooligans," like fudge. Well, at least it was nicely-wrapped.

Pomegranates to the rescue (of my gut) - Photos by Wasabi Prime

All this food, all this debauchery. And what's left to do but try and cleanse one's sytem from all the earthly delights. I seeded a couple of small pomegranates, thinking I'd reserve the arils for salad or as a garnish, but instead it's been a great detox snack and topping for yogurt. We're awash in leftovers, but I'm definitely hovering around simpler fare to pace myself for the holiday food season that's now in full gear. Hope everyone else had as much fun over the long weekend and are just as excited for the rest of the holidays!

Mixed Plate: Lord of the Ringing in 2011

Last year we spent New Year's Eve at a friends' house with Joel and the 'Bots of Mystery Science Theater 3000, before turning on the TV to watch the fireworks at the Space Needle, hoping for embarassing technical difficulties and getting amused by drunkards in the background. This year, we set the Nerd Bar even higher by doing a Lord of the Rings marathon and feasting upon a Thanksgiving-style dinner. Why? Because the Precious told us so...

One meal to rule them all into the new year -- Photo by Wasabi Prime

No funny hats, noisemakers or sparkly dresses. Just a very small gathering, as in Mr. Wasabi, myself and our friend Ms Shutterbug staying cozy and warm as twenty-ten became twenty-eleventy. A cold blast of a winter storm dumped a few inches of snow and resulted in much road ice in the days leading up to the Eve, so much thanks to Shutterbug for making the trek out to our house.

We started the film fest in the afternoon, watching The Fellowship of the Ring, moved on to The Two Towers around dinnertime, and had dessert and cocktails through The Return of the King. No, we didn't time it just right to where Aragorn gets crowned king and regales us all with an oddly-placed Elvish song. When midnight hit, we raised our glasses amid much battlecries and carnage during the battle for Gondor, and thanks to director Peter Jackson's love of multiple endings, it was well past 1am before "The End" finally showed up on screen. Maybe it's just as well he didn't include the destruction of the Shire, as not only would that have been a serious mellow-harsh, we'd have still been watching until sunrise.

To paraphrase a line from Fellowship, during the part, Concerning Hobbits, Bilbo Baggins comments that it is not a bad thing to pursue a simple life. And so we did, but with hobbit appetite, as they are a hairy-footed folk who only think of food and drink. Sounds dandy to me -- put me on the next train to Hobbiton. I had a frozen turkey leftover from Thanksgiving. Call me a food hoarder if you want, but when stuff is cheap, I get all Gollum and start hissing, "I wants it! Gives us the precious -- and don't forget my five cent credit for bringing my own bag." What flavor is lost in mass farming methods for poultry, I try to infuse back in through brining. I broke down the bird into its parts and let it soak in a basic brine two days before cooking it up. I've said it before and I'll say it again -- it's worth the effort and the taking up of space in the fridge, as it will absorb flavor and the meat stays tender.

The power of the One Ring compels you to get freaky and EAT - Photos by Wasabi Prime

To go alongside the bird, multiple side dishes were made, including cranberry sauce, green beans and mushrooms tossed with pesto and crisps of bacon, a sweet potato gratin, and much like Aragorn in Return of the King, cauliflower puree returned to the dining table to regain its rightful place as a side dish, since it already showed up previously for Christmas. Plus enough gravy to fill up a huge Pyrex measuring cup. It's a lot of food, I know. But a lot of these dishes were made a few days in advance and just needed to finish off in the oven. And a great Middle Earth huzzah for not having to cook for a few days and just enjoy a wide array of mix and match leftovers. Thanksgiving food is one of Mr. Wasabi's favorite, so he's pleased as punch we have a fridge full of cranberry sauce and turkey.

So that we're given proper nerd credit, we went LOTR: Full Metal Jacket -- extended cuts, no theatrical releases. I'm sure if we went with the shorter versions, we could have timed everything just right for a happy new year toast during the final coronation, but if you're going to go totally geek, it's go big or go home. Personally, Two Towers extended cut is far superior to the theatrical version; as Ferris Bueller would say, "It's so choice." The movies watched all together are seamless and you don't feel like you're going too crazy, although all the longing stares between Sam and Frodo get to be a little much -- just kiss already, fellas. Ain't no shame! I can't wait until all the Harry Potter movies are out on DVD so that we can have a nonstop movie marathon until we're driven into a full psychological meltdown. You hearing me, 2012? I've got your number!

Overall, our night of movies, Thanksgiving sequel dinner and a swapout of cocktails for champagne made for a fun, if not gut-busting night. We faced the new year with full bellies and a feeling that you make your own merriment and good times, so bring on 2011!

Indy is looking ahead in the new year -- just kidding, it's a squirrel - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Mixed Plate: Flipping the Bird at Tradition and Frozen Turkeyday Travails

Do you still have Thanksgiving leftovers? We're still picking at the last scraps of November's festive edible sendoff as we enter the December holiday binge. Where's the Shake-Weight when you need it? Or better yet, just say the hell with it and get some drawstring pants. It's so hard not to enjoy every last morsel, especially after looking through the Thanksgiving That Was...

Turkey in the key of Mediterranean - Photo by Wasabi Prime

We extended our Turkeyday festivities across a couple of nights. A bird was cooked in Kitchen Stadium Wasabi, but the deed was done on Saturday night. I had it in my head to make a fragrantly-spiced bird, so I used an ample sprinkling of My Spice Sage's pumpkin pie spice to give the turkey a rich flavor and a nice bit of color. I was also basting the turkey in a glaze of reduced pomegranate juice and molasses, just to nudge along the caramelizing of the skin. What helped give the meat itself a nice flavor and tenderness was brining the bird in a long, several-day soak of salt, sugar, bay leaves, peppercorns and citrus rinds. It's worth the extra step, as it will guarantee meaty moistness (giggle) and infuse the turkey with a flavor beyond its surface seasoning. I like to break the turkey down into its delicious parts, versus cooking it all at once, mostly because I have no vessel large enough to brine a whole bird and in general, I just prefer the faster cook time once it's dismembered like a Dexter victim. Despite the missed Norman Rockwell photo opportunity, slicing a just-cooked bird and burning fingers ain't fun. Less fussing, more eating. I further tossed aside tradition by making a citrus and garlic-flavored couscous mixed with the vegetables roasted in the turkey's bastings, mixed with dried fruit, nuts and chickpeas. Even the cranberry sauce got a reboot, with a healthy dose of fresh pomegranate. Tradition be damned.

Own the Bird, especially at breakfast - Photos by Wasabi Prime

On Thanksgiving Day proper, we went to an epic meal cooked up by Mr. Wasabi's friends from the Crossfit Eastside Gym. Don't worry, we didn't eat in a gym, dinner was served at the lovely home of K and M, who were kind enough to invite us over, along with several others. There were two turkeys -- one smoked and covered with a blanket of woven bacon, and the second bird was deep fried and glazed in a spicy hellbroth of Buffalo Wing sauce, making it a Buffalo-Turkey. Bet Darwin never saw that one coming. You'd think it was crazy, but it was brilliantly delicious. Everything at this huge dinner was fantastic and all I have to show for it is the next-day turkey breakfast hash made with the leftovers they sent everyone off with. I know, I should have brought the camera, as this was a true feast, but I figure I'd give this meal its own holiday break from the nonstop clicking of a digital shutter. Tradition be double-damned.

There will be pie, little gifts and a snowy-faced dog - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The turkeyday festivities were also marked by the first snow of the year. Or more like, the first Seattle-gets-shut-down-by-weather of the year. Maybe it's the Thanksgiving Gods reminding us to be really flippin' thankful, but I know Mr. Wasabi was happy to be home after his five-plus hour commute home from downtown Seattle in frozen road conditions when the snow and ice first hit at the beginning of the week. We were fortunate not to lose power, even in the wilds of Duvall where we live, and the snow days gave extra prep time for making the pumpkin pies I said I'd bring for Thanksgiving dinner. The last of my fall holiday decor suffered the fate of becoming pumpkin pie filling, landing squarely into Wasabi Mom's vinegar shortcrust recipe, which is a never-fail favorite that always yields crispy, flaky crust. Topped with cardamom-infused whipped cream and I had unhealthy breakfast options for days.

Walkin' in a Winter Blunderland - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Despite the poop-tacular weather, I have to say when snow falls in Duvall, it's a pleasant winter wonderland, as long as you don't have to be anywhere. If you do, then it's a frozen hell on earth trying to get in and out of the city. The snow lasted long enough to pose for some countrytime photos before melting enough to make the roads passable for Turkeyday. Despite the very early chill and some slick road conditions, this Thanksgiving had to be one of my favorites in that I felt like I was able to enjoy a little bit of everything I love to do over the extended holiday weekend, even if it was as simple as eating, sleeping in, and reading books.

Dateline, Duvall - Old Man Winter goes berzerker - Photos by Wasabi Prime

UnRecipe: The Lord of the Leftovers - Thanksgiving Trilogy

Humorist Calvin Trillin had this to say about leftovers: The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found. While I can say with certainty the origin of our triple-header leftover saga was the gut-busting feast of Thanksgiving, it's not an unknown occurrence in the Wasabi household to have leftovers stretched to near-infinite meals. For better or worse, my parents never liked to throw out food, and that mentality of "waste not" was forever drilled into my Wasabi brain. Our current surplus of ham, turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce led to this Episode I, II and III of meals: Thanksgiving Skillet Hash, Thanks-for-Giving Savory Bread Pudding, and a Truly Leftover Turkey Ramen.

Seattle Skillet Sensation Club - chances are, you've been a member since college. - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Skillet hash is probably one of the most leftover-friendly meals to make. It's UnRecipe to the tenth power, as no measuring or ingredient-fretting is needed. Depending on how many hungry people are needing to be fed, you just take a bit of protein like a handful of finely chopped ham and turkey, add something starchy, which in our case was the leftover roasted sweet potatoes, and throw it all in a heated skillet. The fat from the ham and the turkey skin melts down a bit in the pan, creating a nice sizzle for the sweet potatoes. I also scattered a bit of cranberry sauce over the hash to give it a little tartness. Once everything is fully incorporated and heated through, make a shallow little well in the hash and crack an egg right in. Depending on how many people it's being made for, one egg per person will do. Turn the heat down to medium and cover the top of the skillet with a bit of tin foil to trap the heat and cook the top of the egg to whatever doneness you prefer. I like the consistency of a poached egg, so I let the top of the egg get a bit opaque but the yolk is still liquid inside. Depending on how large a skillet and how many eggs are being used, this final step should only take a few minutes.

Everything was already well-seasoned from their past life as a dinner, so no salt or pepper required. I do like Tabasco with my eggs, so I added a splash or two right before the omming and nomming. The Thanksgiving Skillet Hash was made across several breakfasts, and more than a couple of times, I made this for a party of one because we have a couple of small pans. Yes, I did eat it right out of the skillet, furthering solidifying my membership with the Seattle Skillet Sensation Club, a secret society of plateless skillet-eaters created by foodie blogger and future chef, Eric Rivera. As Rachel of Laptops and Stovetops fame noted, if eating out of a skillet is wrong, I don't want to be right. Amen to that.

Savory bread pudding -- just throw everything in and bake it! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Thanksgiving Leftovers, the Sequel turned into a savory bread pudding. We wound up with a refugee band of dinner rolls and despite our tendency to leave out breads and pastas in our meals, the voice of my parents' Waste Not wisdom was in back of my mind like Obi-Wan. Or perhaps it was Lord Vader of the Carbohydrate Dark Side. Either way, I wanted to use up as much of the Thanksgiving leftovers as possible. Cubing the rolls and letting them toast in the oven to dry out, I took all the rest of the ham and turkey and chopped it into bite-sized pieces. There wasn't really any measuring involved in this UnRecipe because it was one of those "stone soup" meals that just uses everything available. Savory bread puddings, much like a skillet hash, have that lovely flexibility when it comes to ingredients. If they paired well as a meal of main courses and sides, there's no reason they can't be mashed together as a leftover delight.

I used the remaining half-and-half from the coffee and dessert portion of Thanksgiving to make a loose custard for the oven-dried cubed rolls. It was maybe a half a cup's worth. Mixed with a couple of eggs, the creamy, viscous liquid soaked into the now-crispy breadcubes. I probably could have skipped the oven-drying of the bread, but I like taking all the moisture out of bread first, so that it soaks up whatever new liquid and flavor that's being reintroduced to it. The ham, turkey, stuffing, and remainder of the cranberry sauce was already cooked, so once the bread was fully soaked with the custard, the savory bits were tossed with the bread, and a few slices of remaining cheese from the appetizer course of Thanksgiving was laid over the top to create a melty topping in the oven. Again, because everything had been pre-seasoned, I added maybe a few cracks of pepper and that's it. The oven set up the pudding, leaving the bottom part creamy and fused together, while the top crisped in the dry heat. Sliced into wedges, this made for easy lunches for the week.

Thanksgiving dinner -- good to the last drop. Photo by Wasabi Prime

The final meal that furthered Thanksgiving leftovers into the realm of, "Holy Hell, aren't you sick of this yet??" used the most basic, but flavorful part -- the turkey broth. I still had several cups' worth of a concentrated turkey stock made from the whole bird. Some of it was originally used for gravy, but the rest was reserved knowing it could be used for a number of things. I had seen a number of soups and stew recipes flying around on blogs and Tweets, but at this point, I had been sick with a cold and a craving for ramen won out in the end. Feeling too sick to hit the store and the fact that most of the Thanksgiving remnants were spoken for, it became a resourceful ramen that came together with pantry items and basic ingredients.

When the sniffles hit, some people crave chicken soup or grilled cheese sandwiches -- mine is either miso soup or ramen. More to the point, I crave a Hawaii-style saimin, which uses a thinner shoyu broth and yes, Spam is involved. Be it ever so humble, there's nothing that eases my sickly aches and pains like a savory, salty broth with chewy noodles, shredded fried egg, and slices of fried Spam on top. The ramen dashi came together with all the remaining turkey stock, water to thin it out, a splash of vinegar, several splashes of soy sauce, and a stalk of lemongrass (I keep them in the freezer; you'll be thankful if you do the same). The resulting flavor was a salty, sour broth that isn't necessarily traditional, it was just what my flu-riddled palate needed. I had the fortune of finding a few packets of fresh noodles stashed in the freezer. They weren't the firm, wrinkly Hilo-style saimin noodles I love best, but given my state of health, I wasn't about to complain.

Maybe waving the banner of Team Leftovers makes the Prime seem extra provincial, but I don't think it's too shabby a thing to think fast in the kitchen and cook by the seat of one's pantry. Given my newly-minted status as a Lady of Leisure, I anticipate many more at-home meals of UnRecipe inspiration.

UnRecipe: A Very Wasabi Thanksgiving

Behold, the First Thanksgiving... minus Pilgrims, Native Americans, Plymouth Rock, a dancing beagle, and a dinner table including jelly beans and popcorn. The Wasabi Prime household has never hosted a Thanksgiving dinner until last week. Except for a few small turkey meals for just Mr. Wasabi/Brock and myself, we never had a gathering of people coming together to dine upon a large flightless bird and multiple side dishes on the fourth Thursday of November. One less thing on the Bucket List!

Turkeytime cocktail hour; don't forget to cut the cheese! - Photos by Miss Alice

This was very much an UnRecipe Thanksgiving, as it came together somewhat last-minute. Our status for Turkeyday was unknown until less than a week before T-Day. Were we staying local? Packing up for a drive out to Eastern Washington to visit Mr. Wasabi's family? In the end, we decided to stay local and invited some friends who were grounded for the holidays, not wanting to do battle with the beast of holiday air travel. Call it a Fugee Thanksgiving if you want, but we kept it fast and loose, and a hefty meal of familiar flavors was feasted upon.

Dexter-ized turkey and colorful side dishes - Photos by Miss Alice

Foodie confessional: I'd never roasted a whole turkey before. And technically I can't really say I did on Thanksgiving, as the edible parts were removed from the bird prior to cooking. We have a standard-sized oven and it would be an air traffic controller mess to both cook and reheat multiple dishes on Thursday, so the less time one item took in the oven, the better. The raw bird was dismembered all Dexter-style, soaked in buttermilk overnight to tenderize (I believe Dexter skips this step), and the parts saw their way into an oven for a thankfully shorter cook time. The herb butter-slathered breast halves, thighs and legs roasted at a high heat to 165-degree doneness in about an hour's time, then rested in a pouch of tin foil for the final ten degree push. The carcass and neck had been reserved for roasting the day before, and made into a collagen-rich broth. This stock was used along with the cooked turkey's drippings to deglaze the pan and make a roasted garlic and shallot gravy over the stove, while the oven switched gears to warm side dishes made in advance.

A heavenly ham joins the food party - Photo by Miss Alice

I give thanks that the turkey, despite a few spills and one burned hand (ow!), turned out flavorful and moist. Not being sure a small turkey would be enough (or worse, be a disaster), a small ham was added for a second main course, aka, Backup Plan "S" -- for Swine. It was pre-roasted and a brown sugar, mustard and vinegar glaze was poured over the spiral-cut hock to add more flavor and caramelize in the oven.

On a bit of a whim, I made fresh buttermilk cheese from this easy recipe in Country Living. It produced a lovely little round of cheese that was like a firm ricotta. Drizzled with honey and sprinkled with pomegranate seeds, it was another addition to the wine and cheese starter menu.

Let's be honest, Thanksgiving is all about the sides - Photos by Miss Alice & Mr. K

Like a lot of people, I'm all about the side dishes during Thanksgiving. We had traditional flavors, but kept things simple: cinnamon spice citrus cranberry sauce, green beans with pecans and blue cheese crumbles, roasted herbed sweet potatoes, and a creamy cauliflower casserole. Guests Mr. K and Mrs. J brought ingredients for a bright and festive cranberry dressing. Mr. Wasabi brought out his giant propane burner to cook that separately on the porch because the oven and stove area had become gridlocked. Their darling friend, Ms. M also brought a deliciously rich mushroom quiche which went marvelously with all the harvest inspired dishes.

More dessert, please! - Photos by Mr. K and Wasabi Prime

Dessert was made ahead on Turkeyday Eve. Big thanks to Ms. CC for providing a pumpkin from her garden and delivering us from the fear of canned pumpkin puree shortages. The rounds of pie dough were rolled out and the roasted pumpkin was blended into a creamy-dreamy custard. The filling recipe was taken from the dearly-departed Gourmet magazine, available here on Epicurious. A secondary pear tart dessert was inspired by one of my favorite food bloggers, Tokyo Terrace, and another way to celebrate another fall ingredient.

A few dessert notes: our kitchen stays fairly chilly, so the desserts were fine to sit out on the counter for a day. I was pleasantly surprised the pumpkin pie crust stayed crisp -- I've read that doing a brush of eggwash over the whole surface, prior to adding the filling, can help create a moisture barrier. Those decorative flattened glass marbles that you use for flower arrangements work in a pinch when you need to do a blind bake, as I don't have pie weights and didn't have enough dry rice or beans to weigh the crust down to avoid puffing during its pre-bake.

Some party photos and a final Thanksgiving wish - Photos by Miss Alice

The most important ingredient of all? Friends! Along with the cranberry dressing, K + J and friend M were kind enough to bring wine and glugi, a Finnish mulled wine that is both delicious and potent. Mr. K also brought bottles of his home-brewed beer, which incorporated the fall flavor of juniper. Delightful gals Sassy J and Miss Alice arrived with ample supplies of bread, wine, and cheese to power us through the cocktail hour. Guests also provided paparazzi service for the meal, as the Prime was too harried with food prep to take many pictures, so additional thanks goes out to all the photographs!

Turkey meal to turkey sandwich! - Photos by Miss Alice

Despite the challenge of getting several dishes on the table at the same time, it truly was a meal prepared and inspired by many people. It was great that so many people had a hand in it, local ingredients were involved (we promised at least one locavore item on the table), and it truly felt and tasted like tradition. Much appreciation to everyone for making this meal happen -- it was a Thanksgiving worth remembering and being very thankful for.

UnRecipe: Tough Turkey, Marsala!

Some dishes just aren't meant to be fancy, just quick and easy. That being said, don't be a lazy fool like me and make dumb grocery store choices. For the most part, I think simple meals with a modest list of ingredients can easily become favorites, since they work so well into a weeknight schedule, and chicken or turkey marsala is definitely one that falls into that category, as long as one knows which shortcuts to take and which ones to avoid.

Who you callin' Turkey? - Photo by Wasabi Prime

My usual go-to for finding recipes is Epicurious.com, and they have an ample online library of dishes, old and new. If you wish to follow a more traditional chicken marsala recipe, I'd recommend using one of their recipes, like this one with sage. The version I wound up doing was a bit more truncated than what Bon Appétit had to offer. In general, I recommend doing any dish the traditional way at least once, so you get the full experience of the flavors. And then you can be a harried late-night grocery shopper like me, rushing to grab whatever I could at the last minute.

As mentioned before, this weeknight meal was inspired by the lack of time and planning. I knew the basics for the traditional recipe, but super-simplified things for the sake of getting a meal on the table. I know, I know, food is life, but when you're a part-time food blogger and a full-time cubicle jockey, sometimes something's gotta give so you don't wind up in the drive-thru agreeing to get fries with that. The finished sauce was all marsala wine, no broth, but I enjoy the dry, sweet sherry flavor, so it didn't bother me. I should have run out into the garden to snip some fresh herbs, but it was already dark when I was cooking, so a sprinkle of dry thyme won out -- fresh is absolutely better, so don't succumb to my mistake of late-night cooking.

Something worth noting: my new favorite side dish is broiled broccoli. Inspired by the Broccoli Blasted at Seattle's Belltown neighborhood wine/foodie bar, Black Bottle, I started taking large chunks of broccoli, tossing with olive oil, salt and pepper, and laying them out on a baking sheet right underneath the broiler. It just takes a few minutes to get get the tops crispy, and turn the whole thing a bright, perfectly-cooked green. The broccoli remains crunchy, but with a smoky flavor of the nearly-torched florets. I think drizzled with a bit of pork fat, it would make the dish even better, getting smoky under the heated coil, and then served with the crispy cracklins sprinkled atop the greens, but I'll save that experiment for another day when there's bacon in the fridge.

'Shrooms make everything better, even tough cuts of meat. - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Nearly on the outskirts of FoodFail, my only regret was that I used pre-cut slices of turkey breast -- pesky meat department shortcuts! Their thin cutlets belied an unanticipated toughness, and no, I didn't overcook it. Maybe this should have been called Jive Turkey Marsala. So let that be a lesson to shortcut-takers everywhere -- butterfly some chicken breasts and pound the living Valhalla out of it to make a proper whisper-thin paillard, as your efforts will be rewarded in the all-important eating phase of the meal. I usually make this dish with chicken, but I hadn't defrosted any chicken breasts and I totally admit to being sucked into the siren song of pre-sliced turkey breasts on the late-night grocery store run. A mistake I'll not soon repeat. Aside from that one transgression, the meal was still acceptible to hungry tummies, and leftovers were swiftly cleaned up, so the Wasabi household did not turn their noses up in effigy to tough turkey, but I do promise to be more mindful of my timesavers.