No. Not really. But, we did stage a traditional American Thanksgiving last night for some dear Danish friends. And it did damn well near kill me. We had to push it back a week due to a variety of scheduling issues, including special-ordering a turkey from Slaughter Frank's, the butcher. No Butterballs or Jennie O's hanging about our grocery stores, unfortunately.
Despite some rather overcooked veggie side dishes, all was simply super duper. Our menu consisted of roasted turkey, stuffing, garlic mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, Brussel sprouts with bacon and shallots, fresh cranberry sauce, freshly baked bread, pecan pie and pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Sadly, I found that I simply no longer possess the same abdominal vacancy volume that I used to, and so I spent a good hour staring glumly at my half-eaten plate of delicious food (which I paid for that night with the most spectacular heartburn fireworks). To cheer myself up, I had pie.
John and Jeppe were in charge of wine, so they chose something extra special, to remind Don and me of home:
Oooh, it was SO good. Neither Rebekka or Jorunn had made their chosen dishes before -- roast turkey, and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie -- but they turned out really, truly fabulous. I don't think Danes are all that accustomed to this concept of stuffing yourself beyond what you can comfortably hold in your belly, but these guys absolutely got into the spirit. Jeppe and Don had a silent, knowing competition of repeated helpings, while John announced that he thought he was probably going to be on the toilet for four days.
Jeppe, baby Victor and Jorunn:
Rebekka and John (our lovely hosts):
Don and me (completely exhausted):
It was SO much fun, and SO incredibly delicious! And I'm never doing it again. (Although I was asked if we could make this a monthly, if not a weekly thing.)