| The Holidays are so officially here! There are lights up at Macy's. Glowing snowflakes hang from the lampposts down 7th Avenue. I have started buying Christmas presents (which is fairly remarkable in and of itself, given that it is not currently December 23rd). Number one on my list, though, the primary signifier that the holidays have begun: The Herb Butter Is In The Fridge. Following a massive delivery from my beloved FreshDirect last night, I whipped up some bourbon-cranberry sauce and a batch of stuffed mushrooms for my work-sponsored Thanksgiving lunch today. I chopped sage and thyme and parsley until my arm hurt, and then Flex mashed them all into a bowl of butter, which soon shall be part of the best turkey ever. There is a turkey in the fridge as well, and the 2003 Wall o' Dairy. Tonight is Beet Night, and tomorrow is Baking Night. Thursday is Thanksgiving, and from there, it is a rapid-fire whiz-bang descent into the depths of the Happy Holiday Season. Jolly sights and tempting smells and velvet and cider and gold and snow and airplanes and holly and parties and candles and wine and friends and family and bells and vacation and sweaters. But it all begins when the herb butter is in the fridge. |
