The best part of any dinner party is the next morning, when you can freely graze among the leftovers. Today I breakfasted on prosciutto with persimmons, smoked almonds, and chèvre—our appetizer from last night.
We had a lovely Thanksgiving, with my mom and Mark and my friend Matt to join us, as is quickly becoming tradition. We got a heritage turkey (they’re really worth the hype, especially if you like dark meat, as I do) and had mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts, cranberry sauce with pear and ginger, and Judy Rodgers’ bread salad in lieu of stuffing. I have a new celebrity crush on Judy Rodgers, the chef at Zuni Café in San Francisco; we ate there for our anniversary dinner last month, and I was so impressed that I bought her cookbook immediately. It is worth it for the introduction alone. I brined and cooked the turkey exactly as she instructed me, and it was delicious—easily my most successful turkey yet.
“I have no idea what’s going on in your life,” my mom said pointedly at some point last evening, “because you never update your blog anymore.” So, there, loyal readers, now you know: I am eating prosciutto in my bathrobe and vaguely thinking about doing the dishes at some point. What are you doing?