I’ve had Thanksgiving on my mind a lot lately. Every day, at random times through the day, thoughts of that upcoming holiday sneak in, just enough to distract me for a few minutes. Roast turkey and giblet gravy. Cornbread dressing. Should I iron the tablecloths this weekend? Perhaps I should buy a new cake plate. I wonder if I could rent folding chairs? Pumpkin pie or pumpkin cheesecake – or both?

It’s these little details of the holiday meal that keep worming their way into my brain, prompting a warm fuzzy feeling inside, mixed with a hint of excitement and little bit of stress.

Usually my parents host the Thanksgiving meal, and all of us – extended family, in-laws, and friends – fill my parents’ remodeled, early 1900s farmhouse with lively conversation, laughter, and great food. With all that has happened lately with my father, though, Sam and I are taking it over this year. I’m grateful for the opportunity to do this, though I have to admit that I am more than a little sad that my dad won’t be the one roasting the turkey and making his famous mashed potatoes this year. Dad was finally moved to a rehabilitation hospital earlier this week, and it’s very likely that he’ll be there through the holiday – and maybe even a little beyond.

This may sound crazy to some of you — or all of you — but I have never roasted a turkey for Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. Or for any occasion, ever. This year will be my first.

[I can almost hear my in-laws shrieking in horror right now.]

Sure, I’ve roasted a chicken before. Many times, in fact. But the chicken doesn’t intimidate me the way the big bird does. Trying to make space in our freezer, having to defrost it for many hours (days!), the whole ordeal of brining something that large…these details make me nervous before I’ve even turned thought of turning the oven on. Olga shared with me her method here, so I might try that. No brining is required if I can find a kosher turkey.

I got into the Thanksgiving spirit this past weekend by roasting a turkey breast. No, not a whole turkey — just one breast. Enough to make a batch of Turkey Tetrazzini for us to have for dinner this week. Enough to fill the house with the heavenly, savory smells of the upcoming holiday.

Enough that I’m feeling ready to take on the whole bird.

Turkey Tetrazzini

Have Thanksgiving leftovers? This casserole is a great way to use up leftover turkey after the big meal is over. And, if it's not holiday time, or if you prefer chicken, feel free to substitute chopped cooked chicken for the chopped turkey.

Ingredients:

8 ounces mushrooms, coarsely chopped
1 shallot, minced
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1 3/4 cups milk
2 cups chicken broth
1/4 cup dry sherry
12 ounces medium egg noodles
3 cups coarsely chopped cooked turkey
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan, divided
2/3 cup freshly grated Gruyére, divided
1/3 cup fine fresh bread crumbs
Kosher salt
Ground black pepper

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and move oven rack to the middle position.

In a large heavy saucepan cook the mushrooms and shallot in the butter over medium heat, stirring, until most of the liquid they give off has evaporated. Stir in flour, thyme, and ½ teaspoon salt. Cook over low heat, stirring, for 3 minutes. Add milk, broth, and sherry in a stream to the mushroom mixture, stirring, and bring to a boil. Continue stirring; simmer the sauce for 5 minutes.

In a large pot of boiling salted water cook egg noodles until al dente [follow directions on package for time] and drain noodles well.

In a large bowl combine well the egg noodles, the mushroom sauce, and the chopped turkey. Stir in 1/8 cup of the Parmesan and ⅓ cup of the Gruyére. Transfer mixture to a buttered shallow 3-quart casserole dish and spread evenly in dish. In a small bowl stir together the remaining 1/8 cup Parmesan, ⅓ cup Gruyére, the bread crumbs, a pinch of salt, and pepper to taste. Sprinkle bread crumb mixture evenly over the casserole. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, until the top is bubbling.

Note: This casserole can be made in advance. Cover the unbaked casserole well and store in freezer for up to one month. Allow to thaw overnight in refrigerator prior to baking, and then increase baking time to 50 to 60 minutes, depending on how frozen it still is..

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I’ve been feeling out of sorts in the kitchen lately. To be totally honest, I haven’t felt like cooking at all. I want to feel like cooking, but I just don’t. I flip through cookbooks and cooking magazines and the inspiration isn’t striking. The thought of having to prepare a meal is, frankly, overwhelming.

My cooking mojo has gone on hiatus.

Since Dad has been in the hospital, I’ve been spending much of my spare time sitting beside his hospital bed, listening to the beeps and dings of the monitors, holding his hand and holding vigil. We’ve been eating entirely too much take out in the evening, and the local food delivery guy has probably memorized our address by now. If weeknight cooking happens, it’s because Sam does it. By the time I get home in the evenings, my energy is sapped.

I guess I’m not as good at multitasking as I thought.

On Saturday I planned to immerse myself in the kitchen and cook something, anything. I just needed to hold a knife, chop a vegetable, stir a batter. The pile of food magazines on my desk has grown to epic proportions, but I wasn’t able to find inspiration there. And, rather than looking inviting, that pile just looked daunting. I had just received a new cookbook, Hugh Acheson’s A New Turn in the South, so I hoped to find something promising there. His cookbook is pretty incredible – beautiful pages filled with gorgeous fonts and illustrations, fantastic southern recipes in each chapter – but I wasn’t up to even cooking from that. I needed Hugh to show up to cook for me. Or at least with me.

Instead, I thought about the bag of frozen pecans in the freezer, and I finally had an idea. I would make candied pecans and bring them as a gift to my dad’s nurse and respiratory therapist. They were so good with him – so caring and compassionate, but also confident and professional – while Dad was on the ventilator. Candied pecans wouldn’t begin to express my gratitude, but it would be a start.

It only took about 35 minutes, from start to finish, but it was just enough to get my feet wet in the kitchen again. A little measuring, a bit of mixing – nothing too taxing and definitely tasks I could handle that morning. The pecans were quite good. The combination of maple syrup and brown sugar was a natural match, and the cayenne pepper gave just a hint of heat on the back of the palate.

I feel bad about this, but the pecans were so good that we kept them all. That gift for Dad’s nurse will just have to wait a bit longer.

*    *    *    *    *    *

Thank you all for all of the warm wishes and happy, healing vibes and prayers you’ve been sending my way. Thankfully, Dad was taken off the ventilator two days ago. He’s now breathing on his own and talking again. He’s still in the Intensive Care Unit, but things are looking up. I may not have responded to each of you, but please know that every comment and every email has meant so much to me. Thank you.

Yield: about 3 cups

Prep Time: 5 minutes

Cook Time: 30 minutes

Candied Pecans

These pecans make a great food gift for the holidays. They're very easy to prepare and you can double or triple this recipe to make a large batch. Package the candied pecans in jars, tie a pretty ribbon around the top, and you're set.

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 egg white, room temperature
12 ounces pecan halves
1/8 cup maple syrup

Directions:

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Line a half-sheet pan with non-stick aluminum foil and set aside.

In a small bowl, mix sugar, cayenne pepper, and salt; set aside. In a second, larger bowl, whisk the egg white until frothy. Add the pecans to the egg white and stir to coat well. Drizzle maple syrup over pecans and combine until all pecan halves are coated. Add sugar mixture to pecans and toss until well combined.

Spread pecans on prepared baking sheet. Bake for 30 minutes, then remove from oven and let cool completely. Store in an air-tight covered jar.

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My birthday yesterday was not quite what I expected.

That’s life, though. Just when you believe you have things all figured out, all arranged, nice and neat and wrapped up with a pretty pink ribbon, something happens to show you who’s boss. Or rather, that you’re NOT the boss. And definitely not as IN CONTROL as you may have thought.

I’ve been spending my time hanging out in the intensive care unit with my dad. He had a fall in the evening on October 13th. It should never have happened, but it did. He fell on his right side, onto a chair. In the process, he managed to break four or five ribs, in two places each.

The rib fractures were one thing, but the other major problem was that he developed a right sided pneumothorax because of them. A chest tube was placed, to open up the lung. He did better. Then he did worse. He got confused. He threw something at his nurse. He was restrained. Then he was less confused. And then his breathing worsened.

And worsened.

And worsened again.

And two days ago, the ICU physicians intubated him and placed him on a ventilator, to breathe for him. That’s where we are now.

In the meantime, my family is living on take out food. My work is getting neglected. I’m distracted. My husband is doing all of the work around the house, taking care of the children, dealing with our refrigerator (which keeps on breaking, repeatedly), and being my rock. He’s doing all of this so I can spend my time with Dad. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

He’s pretty amazing, my husband.

My dad is pretty amazing too.

I love them both so much it hurts.