Gratitude + Gravy = Me, Obsessed

This is me years ago at one of my favorite places: a holiday buffet (can you tell?)

Now that it's over, I can say it: I dislike Halloween more and more every year. I apologize for declaring that I am in fact an October Grinch, but I just donated blood and my iron supplements and multi-vitamin have not brought me back to normal yet.

As I followed my kids down dark streets - familiar but dimly lit streets - on Halloween, I looked up and made a wish on a star that I could feel the way I felt about Halloween now like I did when I was a kid. When I looked forward to class parties. When almost every costume was homemade and hand-made; one year, my father made me fairy wings out of a cardboard box, painted them white, and glued silver Christmas tree tinsel around the edges, and I thought it was the most imaginative, original and cleverest costume prop ever. Another year, I wore all black, a felt witch's hat, was given the green light with my mom's make-up, and roller skates, which, I suppose, negated the use of a broom. (I still don't need a broom to pull off the witch-thing).

Also, when I was a kid, I remember "haunted houses" as being really scary; teenage boy neighbors who lived for this one night a year when they could terrorize the little neighborhood kids. After those nights, my intuition about which kids to avoid was always gratified. And my Dad would always walk through a haunted house first to see if it was too scary for me.

This year, one of our neighbors did a scary clown haunted house. It even got local television news coverage. Hubby took our kids to that one, you see, I am afraid of clowns. It's not that the house looked like the group home of Insane Clown Posse that kept me away, because even happy clowns scare me. I blame the movie Poltergeist for this irrational fear.

This year, I saw more commercialism on Halloween than the year before, and I didn't think that was possible. I used to feel this way only about December holidays, now, it seems to start in October. No, September, really.

"It's for the kids, honey" says my husband at some point. The cynic in me responds "Oh? It's not for the retailers? The film production companies? Someone is getting rich off this ridiculousness." Told ya. October Grinch, I am.

The irony is, I am all about the origins of October and Halloween rituals.

Samhain, All Hallow's Eve, and Day of the Dead - I love the idea of spirits coming back for one day a year, of making treats for them. In a literature class I took in college (Supernatural Lit), we talked about the origins of Halloween; that the colors represent the harvest, how for centuries (or more), belief in the other-wordly transcends cultures around the world.

And, of course, it sells.

This year was a crazier Halloween than I can remember; multiple obligations, too many parties, cats at every house I visited that made me sneeze (some witch I am), and my kids getting further and further away from me and my trusted flashlight, similar to how my own childhood escaped me before I learned the things of which I was really afraid.

So I lit some candles this last October Saturday night. I burned some incense, sage, and finally, gave thanks for the bounty before me, spilled out on my kitchen table, in the form of high fructose corn syrup, empty wrappers, and smiles indelibly recorded on cameras that don't require a trip to the Fromat.

Now, I say good-bye to the marketing trap and checking-account drainer that is Halloween and welcome my favorite holiday of all, Thanksgiving.

I am not gifted with hands that can stitch homemade costumes. I can never bring myself to do a haunted house, there are enough scary things in the world. Thanksgiving is rooted in history, survives on virtue, and celebrated with food. It's quite an intoxicating spell for me.

Come November, I am obsessed with proving my worth and gratefulness by scratch cooking every last starter, side dish, and dessert. Mom does the bird. Dad carves it (and saves me the first, juiciest bite of skin, at least he did before I gave birth to a mini-me).

Last night I roasted a turkey breast for hubby's sandwiches this week, and made pan gravy. Last month I made batches of cornbread and what everyone didn't eat, I saved (mostly crumbs, told ya, obsessed). Last week I roasted two chickens and strained the pan juices (schmaltz) to use in the stuffing. And I have bought up all the acini de pepe (little pasta beads) for the pumpkin and butternut squash bisque.

Dessert is a whole other blog.

If I am a Grinch in October, I am a fairy/witch/sliding in fleece socks on kitchen tile instead of on roller skates/harvesting maven in November.

And I only need to dive into their childhoods, and into my cookbooks, to be happy. I save the wishes on stars for other things.

ROASTED TURKEY BREAST & BASIC PAN GRAVY

(for those of us who can't wait until the actual Thanksgiving)

(1) 2 lb. turkey breast, with skin

1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

1 tbsp. unsalted butter, sliced into quarters

smoked paprika

poultry seasoning

coarse grain salt and pepper to taste

For gravy:

2 tsp. flour

1/4 cup chicken stock or broth

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

In a roasting pan that can go from oven to stovetop range, put in turkey breast.

Place butter quarters under the turkey skin.

Drizzle olive oil over the turkey breast, then sprinkle salt, pepper, paprika and poultry seasoning.

Roast at 400 degrees: 15 minutes per pound, plus 10 minutes.

Chicken is done at 165 degrees. Set turkey aside and let stand for 15 minutes before serving.

For gravy:

Add chicken broth to pan juices left behind in roasting pan, over medium-high heat on range. With a wooden spoon, scrape up all the browned bits from the bottom of the pan, as you add the chicken stock/broth. Bring to a simmer, and whisk in flour.

When mixture thickens and resembles a gravy, strain or leave as is.

Serve immediately, refrigerate, or freeze.