Yes, I'm revisiting Thanksgiving in March because I keep thinking that I have to blog this.
First of all, I was very proud of myself for making an entire Thanksgiving meal on November 25th (the day BEFORE Thanksgiving). It had cranberries, mashed potatoes, a token salad, an ice cream pie with pumpkin pie spices in it and this exact turkey:
Feeling very satisfied with myself, I took a call from my mother. "Can you bring the rolls tomorrow?"
Now this is a very stressful question. Every Sunday of my growing up years we went to dinner at my "Grandma Red's" (my mom's mom) where my dad would say that the rolls weren't as good as his mother's. Unfortunately, this was probably true. Nearly all the comments made at his mother's funeral were about her cooking. In fact, I distinctly remember an aunt tearing up as she said, "And her rolls...they were like eating a cloud!"
My mom who has a competitive cooking streak once asked her mother in law how she made her rolls. She answered, "Just like you make bread only a little bit thicker." My mom didn't find that advice very useful. It seems my dad's mom may have had a bit of a competitive cooking streak as well.
Anyway, on the phone with my mom I said, "WHAT!? You want ME to make the rolls?"
"Sure, why?"
"Well, the rolls are like really important, right? I didn't think you guys thought I could cook." And I wasn't really in the mood to be compared to the world's best roll baker after I had been feeling so great about making my own Thanksgiving dinner.
"You're a great cook! I don't know why you think that," my mom said. Keep in mind my mother is a big fan of my blog and obviously wants me to quit writing about how my family thinks I'm a wretched chef. Or I guess it's MAYBE possible she's forgotten the Great Splintered Cake Incident of '83 and/or the unforgivable Christmas Scrambled Egg Critique of '99--but I don't think so.
At any rate, that's what she said. And then she went on, "You can just buy rolls, right?"
I knew it.
"Buy them?" I said. "For Thanksgiving? Are you kidding? Wouldn't you rather have freshly baked?"
"Whatever you want," she said sweetly. And then, apparently unable to stop herself she added, "JUST DON'T MAKE WHOLE WHEAT!" with just a hint of desperation. Then she laughed--nervously.
I nearly made whole wheat but with five kids, and really no competitive cooking streak, I compromised and made Rhodes Rolls. Sorta store bought, sorta fresh. They were actually quite yummy, but not as good as Dad's mom would have made.
First of all, I was very proud of myself for making an entire Thanksgiving meal on November 25th (the day BEFORE Thanksgiving). It had cranberries, mashed potatoes, a token salad, an ice cream pie with pumpkin pie spices in it and this exact turkey:
Feeling very satisfied with myself, I took a call from my mother. "Can you bring the rolls tomorrow?"
Now this is a very stressful question. Every Sunday of my growing up years we went to dinner at my "Grandma Red's" (my mom's mom) where my dad would say that the rolls weren't as good as his mother's. Unfortunately, this was probably true. Nearly all the comments made at his mother's funeral were about her cooking. In fact, I distinctly remember an aunt tearing up as she said, "And her rolls...they were like eating a cloud!"
My mom who has a competitive cooking streak once asked her mother in law how she made her rolls. She answered, "Just like you make bread only a little bit thicker." My mom didn't find that advice very useful. It seems my dad's mom may have had a bit of a competitive cooking streak as well.
Anyway, on the phone with my mom I said, "WHAT!? You want ME to make the rolls?"
"Sure, why?"
"Well, the rolls are like really important, right? I didn't think you guys thought I could cook." And I wasn't really in the mood to be compared to the world's best roll baker after I had been feeling so great about making my own Thanksgiving dinner.
"You're a great cook! I don't know why you think that," my mom said. Keep in mind my mother is a big fan of my blog and obviously wants me to quit writing about how my family thinks I'm a wretched chef. Or I guess it's MAYBE possible she's forgotten the Great Splintered Cake Incident of '83 and/or the unforgivable Christmas Scrambled Egg Critique of '99--but I don't think so.
At any rate, that's what she said. And then she went on, "You can just buy rolls, right?"
I knew it.
"Buy them?" I said. "For Thanksgiving? Are you kidding? Wouldn't you rather have freshly baked?"
"Whatever you want," she said sweetly. And then, apparently unable to stop herself she added, "JUST DON'T MAKE WHOLE WHEAT!" with just a hint of desperation. Then she laughed--nervously.
I nearly made whole wheat but with five kids, and really no competitive cooking streak, I compromised and made Rhodes Rolls. Sorta store bought, sorta fresh. They were actually quite yummy, but not as good as Dad's mom would have made.
Comments
And Rhodes bun are yummy aren't they.
Care