My anger at calendars has made me realize that I might just be a little manic depressive. Except not really in the traditional sense, I'm almost never depressed. I might be manic / angry. Or possibly just manic. Point is, I tend to only have two states of being: excited and angry.

I had planned Thanksgiving so far in advance that I was a little sad that I had no more meals to come up with. I pretty much know what I want to make for Christmas. I want to do individual beef wellingtons. I'm debating on whether or not I should guild the lily and add foie gras in between the duxelle and filet mignon and maybe brie in between the meat and spinach. I love foie gras, so I think I will add it. Anyway, that's not much to plan, so I was looking for something to consume y time. So I decided to barge in on my sisters party and throw one for the both of us.

I thought that I had pretty much exhausted the world's supply of exotic and overly elaborate cuisines. And then I saw this morning's New York Times. Turducken!

I had decided to do the foods of the "new South" anyway, mostly because I had a craving for macaroni & cheese. I'm thinking that I'll make it with some amazing cheddar, maybe some asiago too, a slug of kirsch and a touch of nutmeg and top it with buttered panko.  So how does one make a superior turducken?  I'm pretty well set on buying a muscovy duck, I have to put in an order for the foie gras anyway.  I also think I'm going to stick with the traditional dressings - andouille, cornbread, and oyster.  I have considered smoking the turducken, but it probably be awfully cold in December, so that is out.   Half the fun is thinking these factors over.

Oh! I fell in love with a house, btw.  I think we'll make an offer on Saturday.