Except for the Yeast Rolls

Today was a lovely Thanksgiving day.   We had my parents, my in-laws, two of my brother-in-laws and some close family friends over for dinner, socialization and camaraderie.  Everyone was in good humor, starting with the sampling of the champagne (or sparkling wine) selection we’d been collecting over the past several years.

My husband and I had been given a bottle of sparkling wine at our wedding, nearly seven years ago, from the Bellagio in Las Vegas.   We’d never gotten around to drinking it and that bottle had collected along with four other bottles of sparkling spirits since that time.    We started with our wedding bottle and made it through four bottles before dinner was through.   I think, on the whole, our wedding bottle was the best, although perhaps I was somewhat biased by the occasion on which we got the bottle.    I wasn’t alone though in thinking it was better in quality than some of the other options.

I was excited because finishing by finishing up those bottles, we were going to gain not one, but two door shelves in available space in our refrigerator in the garage.   Those shelves had been occupied by bottles for years until tonight and I, for one, am looking forward to using them for other purposes.

There was one calamity with our dinner though—dinner rolls.    It was my fault I suppose.   My husband had phoned, asking if we needed thirty-some rolls from Costco on his trip on Wednesday.  “Seriously?” I think I said, commenting on the thirteen guests and the overabundance of bread products in our house already.    So he didn’t buy the rolls and as a result, we were bread-free for our Thanksgiving meal.

This lack of bread was no problem to me as I find the bread the most mundane and least exciting item on the menu.   I prefer to spend my stomach space on dishes people have made for the occasion instead of bread from a store.   But some disagreed with me.

I was the brunt of incessant “lack of yeast roll” jokes all night.   It was great.   Although I’m not completely sure if a few of our guests are planning on boycotting Thanksgiving dinner in the future unless there is a guarantee of rolls, buns or some sort of bread item to go with the meal.  

Good times.   Good food.   Good family and friends.   Even if we didn’t have rolls…

The Big Boy Update:  This morning I said to my son, “good morning”.   He turned around as he was walking away, thought and then said, “good morning and happy Thanksgiving.”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  “It’s not fair” is my daughter’s new saying.   As I’m writing this I have heard her say it twice already.    It must be a five-year-old thing.