You’ve all been asking about pics of my Thanksgiving food. I forgot to take any!!! I’m so bummed – I had everything set out really nicely and it would have been a gorgeous buffet picture. The turkey breasts especially looked awesome – they were perfectly browned, and I had bay leaves sitting on top of them too.
The leftovers are not nearly as nice looking, but here at least is a picture of the caramel pumpkin gingersnap cheesecake. The crust came out a bit harder than I would have liked, but it makes it kind of like cheesecake sitting on top of a gingersnap cookie. Yum! Now I just have to keep myself from sticking my face in it and gobbling it all up. I used fat free cream cheese (you can’t tell at all because there is so much flavor in the pumpkin and spices), but that still doesn’t mean eating the whole cake would be good for my diet 🙂
Tonight’s dinner is steamed Maine lobster with all the leftover Thanksgiving sides. Funny story there – I saw the lobsters at the Lincoln Center farmers’ market yesterday on my way home from Boyfriend’s. It was a great price ($10/pound!) and I thought it would be a really nice treat and I bought them, completely forgetting that I would have oodles of leftovers from Thanksgiving. I figured it would be fine though – I’d invite lots of my friends over for a lobster-and-turkey third Thanksgiving. However, none of my friends are around because everyone is still traveling for the holidays, so I told Boyfriend he had to help me eat the lobsters.
He is not by any means vegetarian, but he got all freaked out about me killing live lobsters for dinner, even after I assured him that I was going to do it the humane way so the lobsters would die instantly and not a slow boiling death. (Please note that even after I pointed out that the poultry industry has ridiculously poor conditions that are way worse, he still wanted more turkey). I finally convinced him that they were going to die soon anyway, whether it was in my fridge or in a pot of water, so he might as well eat them and make their lives mean something. That is, I want their lives to mean deliciousness in my mouth.
Anyway, I usually don’t cook at his place – I cook at my place and then he either comes here to eat or I bring the food over. However, I realized that since all I have to do is boil the lobsters in a pot and then reheat some Thanksgiving leftovers, I was happy to do that at his place, which is easier. I said as much to him, but he goes, “does that mean you’ll be killing the lobsters in my kitchen?” And proceeded to explain that he doesn’t want “angry lobster ghosts” in his apartment.
The solution? I parboiled them at my place (according to him my apartment is now “the death zone”), and am now taking them to his place to finish cooking them. He’s too funny, and I am way too nice to him 🙂