October 6th, 2007
Tonight Husband and I are attending our big family Thanksgiving dinner in White Rock. I have been assigned the duty of bringing the cauliflower, broccoli and cheese casserole for thirty people, which I am quite nervous about. This is no minor duty. Considered king of the side dishes (possibly second to stuffing, but only possibly), if I mess it up, I might as well get a new family. I have been researching the properties of cheeses and milk fats and the varieties of mornay sauces (bechamel with cheese) and have found a recipe I think will work. It mixes sharp cheddar for flavour with monterey jack for creaminess, in the traditional milk and flour and butter white sauce. Add a little cayenne and dry mustard for bite, and a buttered bread crumb topping, and you have one bitchin casserole.
All that is left is to sort out the cooking. With two turkeys and a ham, there will not be room in the oven for my casseroles at the party house, so I have to bring them hot. Or mostly hot. I could probably grab fifteen or twenty minutes of oven after the birds come out and while they are resting. I think I’ll cook my casseroles through, then swaddle the dishes in towels for the drive to White Rock, and apply crumb topping for the final blast once we arrive. I just hope the fats don’t separate. You know how creamy sauces can break.
In furtherance of this plan, I went shopping this morning. I arrived at Safeway to find the wreckage of the pre-Thanksgiving shopping blitz: haggard, anxious looking shoppers wandering around the produce section and squabbling over only a few remaining cauliflowers, a handful of broccoli bunches, and about four lonely little Brussels sprouts in a big, empty tray. I sized up the scene, and then distracted my competition by screaming, “Look! Thawed turkeys!” while pointing towards the meat department – and while they sprinted for the goods, I scooped up the cauliflower and broccoli and scuttled off in search of cheese. Let it never be said that I am too good for deception.
It never fails to amaze me that people wait until the Saturday before a big holiday to shop for what they need, and then in lots of cases (thankfully, not yours), complain bitterly when the supply isn’t able to meet the demand.
You got lucky, Mrs. Blogosaurus!
But on the other hand, if you don’t like your family, or you never want to make it again, then you SHOULD screw up the casserole.