Twas the night before Thanksgiving and I was happily preparing the feast of all feasts while Richard went to Union Station in Chicago to pick up Veronica who was coming home (yea!) for the holiday weekend. I was chopping fresh parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. I was grating nutmeg, and organic fresh rinds of oranges. I was Martha Stewart-stein-berg.
I carefully cut the crusts off the bread before cutting it into perfect cubes and toasting it in the oven. Then in order to have two kinds of stuffing, I made my own cornbread and then cut it into cubes and toasted it in the oven, too. I placed the toasted cubes into bowls and added the aforementioned freshly chopped herbs and other ingredients and baked two pans of each stuffing.
I sautéed parts of the turkey that I can’t talk about or I’ll gag (again) and then added fresh vegetables. I deglazed the pan with chicken stock and then reduced it until I had perfect, aromatic gravy.
After everything was cooked, cooled and put away, I cleaned the kitchen and waited for Richard to return home with Veronica. They walked in the door and he said, “Wow! It smells so good in here! It smells like bleach!”