Here's our hormone-free, happy-til-he-died Mennonite turkey, fresh from the oven. I'm like a proud parent:
Here's the action shot, compliments of Kitchen Photographer Betsy Carey:
On other fronts, there was late fall foliage from the garden, in a little brown jug from Labrador:
...the table was beautifully laid with Grammie's silver and china:
...all the better to enjoy the meal, complete with cranberry ice, star of the Buehler family Thanksgiving table.
On other fronts, there was late fall foliage from the garden, in a little brown jug from Labrador:
...the table was beautifully laid with Grammie's silver and china:
...all the better to enjoy the meal, complete with cranberry ice, star of the Buehler family Thanksgiving table.
There was pie, too --pumpkin and apple-- not to mention some lovely single barrel bourbon and my requisite Thanksgiving Calvados to sip alongside. By this point, though, the food had rendered us incapable of any more photography. Too bad, because you would never believe how light and flaky Kelly's whole wheat and flax interpretation of my mother's pastry was. Good for you, and yummy to boot.
4 comments:
I screwed up on my first attempt at this comment.
Are you wearing a genuine chef's jacket in that photo Sara? Sweet heavenly father, it doesn't get much better than that! Way to go.
Yes indeedy. Perhaps next time Cousin Deb comes this way, you could come over for dinner and I will wear it for you!
Count me in!
cousin Deb
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