Suzy Says

It was a pretty quiet Thanksgiving at Chez Suzy this year. Jonathan and Megan were elsewhere, and the really big celebrations we used to have came to an end when Erica and Jessica moved away (they are now living very happily in Pasadena, where I have fantasies of one day visiting them). But whether you are expecting a merry band of misfits, ex cons, and kindergartners, or an elite group of one or two, the key to surviving Thanksgiving, or any holiday, really, is to Plan Ahead.

Before I headed to work in the predawn darkness on Tuesday, I put the turkey breast in the refrigerator to start thawing, and cut up baguette and Austrian sunflower seed bread, placing the cubes in a locally made hand-painted bowl to start the stalenization process. I tossed the bread cubes with my hands a few times a day, so they were ready for the big day.

I skipped the Jack Daniel’s this year, and just made simple cranberries, with a little sugar and water, clementine zest, and a squeeze of fresh clementine juice. I made the turkey Nana-style, which I think is still the best. I’ve tried brining and a million different fancy things, but the Nana way is the best way:

My good friend Alice is pretty much the undisputed queen of kitchen hacks, and after my complaining about the horrors of peeling self-roasted chestnuts, alerted me to the fact that one can, and should, purchase vacuum sealed packets of roasted and peeled chestnuts. So that made the creation of stuffing (or dressing, as my Southern friends would say) much easier:

Needless to say, it tasted just like Subway!

This year, I attempted butter tarts for the first, but not the last time:

They turned out great, and I was happy to have a little Canadian touch at dinner. I have to say, I think the Canadians are smart to have Thanksgiving in October instead of November. It allows for turkey at both Thanksgiving and Christmas, whereas in the US, having it twice within a month is too much. And it just seems like a gigantic holiday stress fest from Thanksgiving to New Year.

All in all, it was a great dinner and a nice, though quiet, celebration.

A YEAR AGO: A quiet Thanksgiving.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Thanksgiving at Rio’s place.

TEN YEARS AGO: Some little treats.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Heading to my family’s place for Thanksgiving.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A lot was going on.

Megan and I decided it was high time we had dinner at our favorite seaside bar. Though we go there for drinks, we don’t often have dinner there.

It was gloomy outside, but bright and cheerful inside. The perfect weather to sit by the fire:

Megan was already there when I arrived, chatting with Tony, the genial owner and maître d’. I really believe he sets the tone for the restaurant, making everyone feel comfortable, welcome, and cared for, whether you’re a trucker, someone celebrating an anniversary, or someone who needs a drink after a long day of work. Come as you are and you will feel happy and at ease.

Tony made sure Megan’s knee was as comfortable as it could be. Her formerly good knee has been demoted to evil twin, and will likely be the cause of yet more surgery in the new year. It has been barking pretty loudly as of late, and the other knee is trying to keep up, so it seems that my sister is going to be on the wrong end of the gurney more often than she would like in the very near future.

We tried to put away all thoughts of surgery and the other bad things that happened this year or are hovering on the horizon. A beautiful cocktail of sparkling wine, raspberries, and limoncello helped:

We pondered the menu, and Megan decided on a rustic tart with tomatoes and cheese to start. I had mussels steamed in white wine with aioli on the side for dipping. They were both absolutely delicious, and in keeping with Dad’s principle of restaurant ordering, which is to get something you wouldn’t make at home. Speaking of fathers and daughters, we ordered a glass of local Fathers and Daughters Rosé to go with dinner. It was so good that it turned into a bottle, and it was the perfect accompaniment to our starters as well as our shared entrée of feather-light gnocchi with brown butter and fresh sage. Again, not something I would attempt to create in my kitchenette at home.

Since we were going all out, we decided to get not one, but two desserts: a perfect crème brûlée and a flawless dark chocolate pot de crème, accompanied by Cointreau. I don’t know which dessert was more delicious, but I do know we had a wonderful time!

A YEAR AGO: The sudden demise of my car.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Remembering my grandfathers’ valiant service on the battlefields on the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day.

TEN YEARS AGO: Appreciating friends and the beautiful place I live in.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: The joys of Jessica. I miss that kid! I mean, uh, woman.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Farewell to my beautiful Mustang, Josephine. I still miss her, too.

It’s that time of year when the garden work changes from watering and weeding to preserving and canning as my hard-working siblings get ready to put the garden to bed for the winter. Everything over there, from the garden to the orchard, seems to be on an epic scale. Here you see peppers they grew, before:

and after they were canned:

They canned 15 pints!

Once the peppers were squared away, it was time to start working on cider. Here you see Rob examining the apples after they were picked:

Because of Megan’s crazy schedule, cider pressing occurred during the work week instead of on the weekend, so our heroine could not join her family in this annual tradition. But my coworker and medical provider was there. Cider Day happened to mark the one year anniversary of her moving into Rio’s guest cottage. When we were pressing cider last year, she came by to check out the cottage. This year, she was part of the pressing. She says that we are like a second family to her. I love my family, in all its forms!

A YEAR AGO: A beautiful day in the Valley.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The air was smoky and scary from wildfires, with no rain in sight.

TEN YEARS AGO: A long trip home from Atlanta.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: My walk home from work. Bummer that the photos did not survive!

Megan and I really enjoyed a magical history tour through the Village cemetery*, so we were excited to learn that there would be a Haunted Mendocino walking tour the Saturday before Halloween, led by a friend of Megan’s who also works at the local bookstore.

Alas, it was not to be. The tour was sold out – I didn’t realize that walking tours could be sold out, but there you are – and Megan’s buddy was unable to sneak in two extra people. They were doing another walking tour on Halloween, but Megan was working that night, so we will have to hope for another time.

It was a beautiful afternoon, though:

and surprisingly warm for that time of year. We looked around the shops and I reminded Megan about the time I was walking Stella and discovered that we had the same priorities when Stella went into a jewelry store, the bookstore, a chocolate shop, and a bar. She was greeted warmly at all locations.

On our way home, we decided to stop in at the Albion River Inn. I hadn’t been there since my friend sold it earlier this year. It has a beautiful view. Here it is, looking toward the ocean:

And looking toward the iconic Albion Bridge:

The bar was uncrowded, so Megan had room to stretch out her leg. I am sorry to say that there is knee surgery and more knee surgery in her immediate future. The one that used to bother her occasionally is now throwing Ramona-style Great Big Noisy Fusses on a daily basis and waking Megan up at night and can no longer be ignored. And we all know how ignorance is bliss. The other knee took its cue from the Ramona knee and is also fussing, though not as mightily. They will both have to be hoovered out in order to shut them up, about the last thing my sister would like to do as she is not yet really recovered from thyroid surgery five months ago.

We tried to put all surgery thoughts behind us and enjoy a drink together:

admiring the beautiful view and enjoying being together.

The bartender forgot to give us the locals’ discount, so she gave us two passes for breakfast instead. We are looking forward to trying those out.

*I was a little shocked to see how long ago that was. Oddly, the gentleman who played the undertaker died not long after the tour, joining the character he portrayed.