Celebrating the Harvest

I just finished Thanksgiving dinner, which can be more accurately described as the Feast of Meats.

For the first time in many years, my family stayed in Richmond instead of traveling to the Outer Banks for the week of Thanksgiving.  A three-person Thanksgiving dinner isn't all that exciting, though, so of course we invited several of our family friends over tonight.  It was a potluck of sorts: my mom made her usual Peking Duck-style turkey, and I was in charge of preparing the glazed ham.  This is the first time my mom has trusted me enough to let me do anything in the kitchen around the Thanksgiving holiday.  I must really be growing up!

Well, we made the mistake of assuming that all of the guests would bring vegetable dishes.  Instead, they came with fish, chicken, ribs, shrimp, and even another turkey.  Seriously?  Who brings a turkey to someone else's Thanksgiving dinner??  And more than three non-meat dishes would have been nice.

But it is a day of giving thanks, and I can't deny that I'm thankful for the amount of food we had, meat or otherwise.  I kept eating until my stomach felt like it was going to burst, and then once it stopped hurting, I would eat more, and then it would start hurting again.  A vicious cycle, and one that I never learned from.

Hello again, missing seven pounds.