I'm going to publish this post every single year until every last one of you make this pumpkin pie. Keep me updated. Originally published November, 2006.
I don't have time for this; I can't blog because the 27 members of my husband's immediate family (no aunts, cousins, grandparents, no, no, just the nuclear family with parents, wives, husbands and offspring) will arrive Thursday and that's only three days away.
So, in between finally finishing the kitchen, cleaning out a jam-packed trunk room so I can fit other, equally unnecessary stuff from all over the house into it, the Salvation Army has seen a spike in donations, and my curtains met water for the very first time. This is serious cleaning, my little poults and writing is a luxury.
However, I would be seriously remiss if I didn't share a few Thanksgiving secrets — you know, things like brine your turkey (a bucket on the back porch works great this time of year as temperatures plunge nightly, but make sure you weight the lid so the urban wildlife doesn't help themselves to a midnight snack — I kept that particular secret to myself last year), make your own cranberry sauce, etc., etc. Except that every other food magazine/cookbook/blog tells you to do all of those things too (except the animal part — that's gleaned exclusively from my particular experience). They don't, however, give you the perfect, the only, the ultimate pumpkin pie recipe to cherish and share.