I am not a warm, ooey gooey, holiday person. I mean, I like the holidays because I get to go home and sleep in my massive bed and have real closets and space in my room to walk around. But I’m not into gifts, I’m not into festive cheer, although I am into aggressively spiked eggnog.
All that being said, Thanksgiving is my favorite day of the year. I like that it’s the beginning of the feasting season, wherein we gorge ourselves on as much food as possible and then take a nap till the snow all melts. I like that before Thanksgiving, it is still fall, and after Thanksgiving, we’re so much closer to winter. Mainly, I like the foods of Thanksgiving. Rich, hearty, autumnal foods. And of course, pumpkin pie.
Pie for breakfast. Also, pie plate matching shirt.
It’s strange because I never eat that many pears in the fall. I really love them, but they’re only good for so long and apples last much longer which works better with my current lifestyle. And also apples go great with peanut butter which, again, works well with my current lifestyle. But nothing beats a pear so plump and luscious that you slurp the juices with every bite, although plenty run down your chin instead of making their way into your mouth.
Last week I decided to make poached pears for a team dinner with some people from my work. I’m going to just secretly admit that I really wanted to eat pears and didn’t care too much what everyone else wanted for dessert… sorry chocolate lovers. Also, I took the chance to get eight pears rather than the require six because an extra pear or two never hurt if they’re expense-able. Of course, I saved the extra pears for myself to enjoy at my leisure. Or more immediately once they became ripe.