Thanks

I'd originally hoped to go to the Boston Summit in Montréal this weekend, but was compelled to visit my father instead, and I'm really glad I did.  In previous years, I've been used to busy Thanksgiving weekends and large family affairs.  This year, though, there was just my father.  We didn't dine with a friend in Owen Sound, or go to my brother's, or have a friend of my father's over.  Instead, for once, we stayed home, and I flexed my amazing culinary skills (oh, you have no idea) to engineer a treat for my father.  A very spicy treat.

I had somewhat hoped that by not gallivanting about I might get more work done, but that doesn't happen when you start camping out in the kitchen and setting traps for those who'd dare disturb your creations.  For food, I made a spicy curry, a spicy cabbage stew, a gingery (spicy?) pumpkin molasses pie, and served my father's home-famous salad, buns, and long-grain rice.  It's not as ambitious as my famous Kiwi Thanksgiving of 2009, but it impressed its audience of one.

Preparation for the curry	Curry, rice, Yves sausage, and buns
Pie, amputated	Pie parts, as beautiful going in as coming out

It wasn't lonely, though.  While my brother's family could not make it, I was able to go see Real Steel with another friend whose family had forgotten her for Thanksgiving (the saddest story) and enjoy typically idyllic walks through Flesherton, even sharing pie, tasting from the Museum's herb garden, and exploring Flesherton Hills after dark with another friend.  It was spooky!  There may have been foxes! :o