Other potential post titles:

Blogger Shmogger

Water Shmater

Turkey Shmurkey

Marco Poll-oh

Please allow me to explain.  I got a little wrapped up in Thanksgiving today.  In fact, I got so wrapped up that I neglected my blogging duties, taking very few pictures.  I also neglected simple self-care tasks like drinking a certain beverage we call “water” (please note Wine Shmine, and Coffee Shmoffee were not potential post titles).  That perhaps explains for the raging headache I have right now.

Nevertheless, I’ll do my best to give you a short holiday recap and let you decide via your comments as to which recipe you’d like me to share.

We woke up this morning and the family requested pancakes.  I think it was one of those situations where Daddy tells Lulu, “Don’t you want Mommy to make pancakes?!” which is only fair since I say things like, “Isn’t Daddy just the best at getting you a drink of water in the middle of the night?!” or “Wow, I bet you really want Daddy to get a Kleenex for that green stuff that is running out of your nose!”

Still, it was effective because I made vegan Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Pancakes (that’s recipe option #1, for those who are going to rock the vote).

I’m told they were amazing.  I would have had some myself, but I had some serious plans for an almost empty almond butter jar.

In the jar with the last of the almond butter:

  • blended oatbran a la Katie
  • few spoonfuls of pumpkin
  • Honeycrisp apple
  • cinnamon
  • vanilla almond granola

I wanted to grow an anteater tongue so I could get every glorious bite out of the jar.

We followed breakfast with an honorary Thanksgiving Thursday daily tradition of a viewing of Banana Phone.

While the girls and Daddy danced their little pancake filled hearts out, I put the finishing touches on the pies.

Vegan Pumpkin Pie (recipe option #2)

Vegan Chocolate Silk Pie (recipe option #3)

After the desserts were under control, I went for a walk on the treadmill while flipping between The 700 Club and The Hills, just so all my bases are covered.  I learned two very important lessons:

1.  If your mother-in-law complains about your cooking on Thanksgiving, Pat Robertson said it’s okay to dump a bowl of mashed potatoes on her head; and

2.  Spencer is an idiot.

How do either one of these men have a TV show?  Because demented people like me need something to watch on the treadmill.

After I burned some calories and brain cells, I showered and got the rest of our food ready to go.

Cranberry Sauce (recipe option #4, though like Sanjaya on Season 6 of American Idol, this is so simple, it’s just a waste of a vote)

Caramelized Brussels Sprouts (recipe option #5, though like Ross Perot, this could just detract from somebody that actually stands a chance of winning).

And our vegan main course, Meatless Meatloaf (recipe option #6).

My older brother pointed out that this dish looked like granola bars, and then asked couldn’t I just call it, “loaf?”  He followed up by asking if he could put gravy on it.

Aside from those remarks, things went FAR better than I could have anticipated.  We had a full house at my parents’, with two large tables of family that looked thrilled to be getting their picture taken.

My Uncle Jeff  (on the right with the mustache) looks like he’s complaining to my aunt about the “loaf,” but he honestly just looks like that most of the time.

I piled my plate with salad with tahini dressing, cranberry sauce, brussels sprouts, “loaf” with barbecue sauce and green beans.

I wish Jesus had turned wine into water, though, because I had two glasses of red and now have that aforementioned headache.

Regardless, everyone enjoyed all the food (all but a sliver or two of pie got eaten and got RAVE reviews…no one knew they were vegan!), and we enjoyed each other’s company.

Lulu left the table to enjoy a very familiar book.

Gigi found her always growing supply of toys at her Mimi and Poppy’s house.

I enjoyed chatting with my brother and his girlfriend,

catching the “loaf” bully napping (he’s tryptophan’s beeyotch),

and playing a mean match of ping pong.

Lulu donned some protective headgear.  One can never be too careful when it comes to featherweight balls.

In other words, the day was a blast spending time with the people I love, regardless of what was or wasn’t on my plate or anyone else’s.

After all, isn’t that what the holidays are all about?

I’m in dire need of a glass of water, and there’s still pie left.  At this point, both feel equally necessary.