Six Days Without Take-out

As a writer, there’s nothing I like more than a well-stocked refrigerator. And come Thursday, I’m guaranteed to have one. Yep, just thinking about it makes me happy. You see, I don’t really enjoy cooking. Sure, I’ll whip up simple meals, but I’m not a master in the kitchen. Unless my husband, Johan, goes shopping, our fridge remains relatively empty. So, after finishing a difficult chapter, I reach for the coffee carafe and a take-out menu. But after Thanksgiving, my writing desk won’t be littered with tiny plastic forks and pathetic paper cartons. No limp sesame noodles for me. Instead, my desk will be stacked with overflowing bowls of spiced pumpkin soup and chipotle whipped sweet potatoes. Plates (real ones) will be piled high with turkey sandwiches, cranberry bread, and wild rice stuffing. And I think my writing will be better because of it.

Thanksgiving is Johan’s favorite holiday to pull out all the stops. He may have been born in Stockholm and raised in London, but this European knows how to make one hearty American feast. For the seven of us, Johan will make goat cheese crostini (drizzled with honey), the aforementioned pumpkin soup, five side dishes, and a twenty-pound bird (pomegranate glazed). Clearly, a ridiculous amount of food. Yet somehow, year after year, we manage to eat it all. Much of it consumed on the day itself and the rest…gone by Tuesday. How is this possible? Well, since I started writing, I’ve adopted the philosophy of my dog, Milo. If tasty, fresh food is within reach, go for it. And be as fast as possible. You never know where your next meal may be coming from.