Post-Thanksgiving Wrap Up

Thanksgiving was wonderful.  I had an early dinner with my friends and my Mom at Steve and Vic's.  The first without my Dad, but it seemed to go off without a hitch.  Then The Drummer and I drove down to Indio so he could play a gig that night.  Lots of fun at Fantasy Spring Casino where I could smoke inside and drink lots of Jack and Gingers.  And apparently The Drummer and I were Eye Fucking each other throughout all three sets, according to the lead singer's girlfriend, Jasmine.  It was cute as could be.

After drinking our faces off and a threeway that never came to pass, we had sex and went to bed.  Then woke up, had sex again and got our asses on the road.  Well, first we had to go to the Fantasy Springs Casino Buffet and gorge ourselves on salads, tri tip, potstickers, samosas, and lots of yummy stuff that's bad for us.  I love a buffet.  But I have a particular thing about how I eat at buffets.  I think I got this from my Dad, but maybe not.

There are the types of people at buffets that are just so happy to be drinking and smoking at 10 AM and wearing elastic wasted pants that they don't care about decorum.  So they do a few interesting things:

1) They load up two plates at a time at the buffet.  Because they get winded if they get up too much?  God, I hope not.  I think this is a little ridiculous.  It's kind of like double fisting at the bar, but it's so much worse.  It's gluttonous and white trashy in the worst way possible.  But what makes it worse is...

2) When people decide that they are going to fit all of the buffet on their very crowded plate(s).  They probably skip making their own green salad and go straight to the prepared salads.  Then they put on some chicken, maybe a piece of steak, ravioli, burrito, pizza, creamed spinach, sweet and sour pork and ribs.  A bunch of stuff that doesn't go together at all.  Yes, of course, my look of disgust is followed by their response of: "Hey, it's all goin' the same place anyway", which is followed by a loud belch.  Then they continue eating and dip their pizza or ribs into a very full side of Ranch dressing.

This is how I do it.  It's so much more civilized:

1) Plate One: Salads/Cold Items.  I like to start out slow and make a little green salad for myself: romaine lettuce, cucumbers, beets, blue cheese crumbles, maybe some bacon bits if they're real crumbled bacon, olives and garbanzo beans.  Then a balsamic dressing.  If the build your own salad items are good, then I'll do a full salad first.  Or if I'm really hungry I'll do a full salad.  Otherwise, I'll add some prepared salads to the side.

2) Plate Two: Meat.  I'll choose my main protein, like a try tip or roasted chicken.  Maybe salmon if it looks good or another fish.  Then I'll choose some sides that go with that: mac and cheese, veggies, creamed spinach.  Maybe pasta if there isn't another starch.  But I make sure that it looks just like a regular plate I'd order at another restaurant.  Sometimes I'll add another protein like ribs...as long as it goes together.

3) Plate Three: Smorgesbord.  Okay, I know I said that I don't like to mix everything together.  But what I do here is a selection of appetizers.  Maybe I'll go revisit the cold prepared salads to add to this.  I maybe even take this opportunity to try the soup with some apps on my plate as well.  So if I'm doing Asian, then I'll do potstickers, char siu bao, potstickers and maybe even some noodles.  If it's Italian, I'll do pizza and pasta, maybe even a little more salad to get some greens on there.

4) Plate Four: Dessert.  At this point I'm pretty full and I don't really have a sweet tooth.  So it might just be a parfait or chocolate mousse or a piece of cheesecake and a fruit tart.  Something light and fun.  If there's a chocolate fountain, then maybe some chocolate dipped strawberries.  But the key is to make the plate look pretty.

The key is to make the plate look good.  You can always go back for more.  That's never an issue. But when I see people pile their plates up high like they're storing nuts for the winter, it just drives me crazy.  It's not civilized.  A buffet is basically a multiple course dinner.  So I like it to look that way.

Now that I've kind of recovered (I didn't go with The Drummer to his gig last night), I'm in bed writing and getting work done.  I'll probably either make a stuffed portabello mushroom or tacos later for dinner and read some plays I need to read.  I need to recover from a debaucherous past few nights.  My liver and stomach both need a break.

Thanksgiving

I didn't have to cook this Thanksgiving.

To some people the thought of not cooking would be followed by a sigh of relief. For me, I felt a little unstable.

I'm the guy who makes everything. I'm the guy who doesn't let you bring anything. And not to be nice, but because I've been planning a menu with complementary dishes for the past three months. I'm the guy who gives the toast. I'm the guy who looks over at his partner, who has decorated the whole house, and smiles. I'm the guy who's a part of the Thanksgiving Dinner Team.

Well, not this year.

This year, I was the guy who brought his parents to Thanksgiving at his friends' house. And we ate someone else's stuffing and someone else's turkey. And it was good. I spent the whole day...doing nothing. I slept in. I went to the Korean Spa and mediated. I went over to my friends' house at my own leisurely pace. I had a glass of champagne at 12:30. I got out of my friend Steve's Mom's way because she is the Queen of her Kitchen.

I watched my parents walk in the front door and get greeted immediately by people who love me. I looked around to see where my father was. He had escaped into the kitchen to talk to Steve's Mom about food. And that's when I knew we were okay. My father doesn't really talk to people. He's shy.

Actually, that's unfair. He's the shy one in our family. And we're all social. It's the same thing with my Mom. For years I've said my Mom is not a good cook, a story which she recounted LOUDLY on Thanksgiving. But since she was with other LOUD people, it was totally fine. My ex's family was very subdued and being loud was considered inappropriate. I'm half-Latin and mainly from the neck up because I've got a BIG OL' MOUTH. So in my family, my Mom's a bad cook. But in the world of home cooks, my Mom is great. She just doesn't love it. All the men in our family LOVE to cook. It gives us identity. It gives the three of us something to talk about. It makes us comfortable. That's because it's a passion. So when my normally quiet Dad was going off on his own and not standing in a corner listening to my Mom and I hold court, I was curious. But he found common ground. And my friends are people who my parents would talk to. They are people who make them comfortable. So it would make sense that Steve's Mom would be the same way.

It's funny. Because Steve and I had been dying for our Moms to meet, but it was actually his Mom and my Dad who exchanged numbers. Before you get all eye rolly on me, my parents are still together and it wasn't like that. All though I do think it's funny that my Dad exchanged digits with Steve's Mom. And the two Mom's DID get along and they had something in common. They raised two artistic sons with a voice of their own. And they made sacrifices to make sure that we had a good life. And we do. Mine's in transition now. But it's good again.

And the good job that our mothers did was in evidence later that night when Steve and I were sitting on his bed, crying while watching GLEE. It was the episode where the whole Glee Club stands up for Kurt. It's the one that just aired about Kurt's dad and Finn's Mom getting married. The one where Finn dances with Kurt. The one where Finn realizes that he needs to man up and be a brother to Kurt, a protector.

And I saw Steve turn around and look at his Mom with tears in his eyes. A look that I know all too well that basically says, "Thanks Mom, for never finding fault and for always believing in me." There aren't enough words.