Turkey day

Turkey day (or in my case, turkey days) sucked all life out of me. Stuffed even fatter than each turkey I engulfed and woosy from celebratory “I’m thankful for…” toasts, writing and blogging was far from my mind. Food comas ensued, parades were watched and catch-up sleep was a must.

Of course, like everyone else, I said thanks for my family (adopted and real), my friends, my health and my happiness, but I also added a few new “thanks” this year. I attended not one, not two, not three, but FOUR Thanksgiving meals, making me realize just how thankful I am for all the love in my life – love for one another and love for food.

Everyone wanted to host and celebrate the day grounded in gobble-gobble goodness. I gladly obliged and reaped the benefits.

Thanksgiving meal #1: Cuban Thanksgiving meal, Aventura, Wednesday night Though I arrived late, even by Latin standards, to meet up with my boyfriend and his family, I nibbled on a few scraps of pulled pork and moist pumpkin muffins, the latter made by my boyfriend’s sister. I washed down my glass of red with café con leche, a bite of birthday cake and flute of champagne for dessert.

Thanksgiving meal #2: Mom’s Thanksgiving feast- half Italian, half American, Plantation, Thursday afternoon My mom and stepdad have friends who live to cook. They enjoy preparing dishes that guests go ga-ga over – the tried-and-true crowd pleasers. Appetizers began at 1 p.m. Spinach dip, artichoke dip, sliced meats and veggie trays competed with “sausage bread,” a take on my stepdad’s special pepperoni-and-cheese pinwheels. Certainly no lack of food.

Usuals – the turkey, the stuffing, the green bean casserole, the cranberry sauce – made their appearances. My plate, however, was taken over by the sweet potato concoction that makes me salivate even six months before Thanksgiving. Like dessert for dinner, the sweet potato mush is cooked with butter, brown sugar and candied nuts on top. Nothing else on the table is worth eating. But just to add some variety to my meal, I opted for a heaping portion of salad with chopped apples and Gorgonzola cheese. Italian-style stuffed artichokes and green peppers were also too good to pass up.

Thanksgiving meal #3: Boyfriend’s family’s intimate dinner – the non-thanksgiving Thanksgiving, Plantation, Thursday night Andrew’s sister, a chef extraordinaire in her own right, doesn’t do the whole “you gotta have turkey on Thanksgiving.” Instead, she prepares a medium-rare rib roast with a perfectly seared outside. Cranberry sauce is spruced with oranges and apples; mashed potatoes are chunky and with the skin, just like I like. While I was too full to take anything more than one bite of each, I was able to enjoy a taste. Andrew, his parents, his sister, her boyfriend and I laughed as even the cat begged for snack.

Thanksgiving meal #4: Daddy’s Thanksgiving extravaganza – Jewish-style, Cooper City, Friday Let me put this out there – my dad is an awesome cook. I called him frantically the week before turkey day begging and pleading for a free-range turkey (I am on a new kick, adamantly supporting free-range and organic items because artificial drugs, pesticides and plumpers disgust me). Without so much as a complaint, he ordered my special turkey from Whole Foods.

Turns out, my turkey prepared by my stepmom was the most moist I have ever eaten. Even its gravy was juicy. In true Jewish tradition, food abounded. As if an entire turkey weren’t enough, sweet spiral ham was served. Full trays of green bean casserole, stuffing, sweet potato casserole and cucumber salad filled the serving table. My dad’s moist pumpkin bread and my grammey’s chocolate-covered, crunchy Chinese noodles had me fingering the dessert tier before dessert was even served.

My immediate family is notorious for too much food. Left-overs were boxed and sent home with guests, and that that couldn’t find a home was frozen for later enjoyment.

Spending time with family (especially my baby brother, home on leave from the Coast Guard Academy) and friends at all my meals made this November even more special. I did, however, somehow manage to miss the pumpkin pie at all my meals.

It’s funny – normally, I hate Thanksgiving, but not this year. Though my family didn’t set aside differences like the pilgrims and the Native Americans did, I was able to celebrate with all those whom I care about. There’s always enough of me to go around…too bad I can’t say the same about all the sweet potatoes I devoured.

Orlando Food and Wine Festival

I’m still tasting the prime rib sliders on buttery, biscuit-like buns. My lips still pucker at the thought of the cool Riesling (it was served in a see-through plastic cup, but it didn’t bother me in the least). Moist, rainbow-colored cupcakes in shot glasses continue to dance across my eyelids when I close them. And I’m still longing for just one more piece of the chopped bruchetta on a crunchy cracker drizzled with thickly aged balsamic vinegar – one of my biggest weaknesses along with chocolate and goat cheese.

To continue the three-month celebration of my birthday, my boyfriend and I took a trip to Orlando. Not for Disney, not for Universal and not for any of the subsidiaries, but for the downtown food and wine festival around Lake Eola. The festival lasted two days, Saturday and Sunday, so we made a weekend getaway around it.

Upon entrance, Andrew bought us a pack of tickets at $2 a ticket so that we could purchase food and wine from all the vendors we fancied. We decided a complete walk up and down the mile-long, one-street festival was pertinent before any purchasing or trying anything, no matter how tempting. We both internally and externally noted which tapas and wine goblets were the “must-haves” and the “definitely nots.”

Like ducks in a row, each vendor was given their spot next to some other vendor with equally delicious-looking food. The stands vied for attention by impressing with their food displays, wine bottles and signs. PF Chang’s piled mounds of fortune cookies, Primo displayed a fresh salad bar to decorate their Italian sandwiches, Pure Magic ice cream had nitrogen tanks to miraculously turn their cream into ice and The Boheme’s stand was decked to the nines in white tablecloths and a lamb carving station in the back. With only so many tickets and only so large of an appetite, where do you go?

The four- and five-star restaurants that typically take weeks to score a reservation at and tend make a bigger dent in your wallet than your pants were reduced to even smaller portions of shrimp scampi and lollipop lamb chops than usual. Their cost, though, three to four tickets a taste, was just a fraction of the restaurant’s cost and way too good to pass up. While it’s rare to eat at The Black Olive, Ruth's Chris Steak House and Il Mulino all during the same lunch, I had no problem stretching my stomach for a nibble of each.

But is it really fair to put significantly reduced-cost Ruth's Chris Steak House next to Tijuana Flats? Probably not. Yet with festival-goers in shorts and T-shirts because of the brutal Florida heat, no one was too good or underdressed for any restaurant. Little bites from each restaurant were affordable by all. For those with a keen eye and the ability to trace people like ants back to a food source, Kobe was serving full meals or chicken in black bean sauce, rice, veggies and lo-mein at the same price as a cupcake or two. Lines moved quickly, as most restaurants only served two or three mini dishes of the plates they deem to be the highlight of their restaurants.

Andrew and I enjoyed lunch, dinner and the following day’s lunch at the festival. With each bite of food I took, I could taste the pride and the love of its creator. My favorite tapas included (but were certainly not limited to) tender, grilled lollipop lamb chops and smashed potatoes, aranchini in marinara sauce, coffee gelato smooshed between two mini, double-chocolate cookies, shrimp in a butter sauce atop a crunchy piece of bread and the filet mignon in a fig puree. You’ll have to excuse me for not recalling where each scrumptious dish came from, but with a wine-fogged mind, I’m sure you’d forget too.

A food and wine festival would be nothing without the alcohol. Wines from Bulgaria, California and France flowed freely from noon to 9 p.m. Because of the heat, I always drank a chilled white to keep me cool. Andrew craved pale ale and gulped down large cups of beer. While we learned nothing about beer or wine pairings with our food selections, we did sip on some tasty beverages before listening to the live music and watching the celebrity chefs cook.

The executive chef Matthew Price from The Capital Grille in Orlando took to the stage to demonstrate his signature medium-rare sliced filet with Cioppolini onions and wild mushrooms. Using fig essence and demi glace, Price showed exactly why a good meal is worth savoring. Other chefs taught their secrets of bananas foster, Nova Scotia lobster tail and holiday tres leches cake with seasonal flavors of Eggnog.

While the festival featured only Orlando restaurants and was geared toward Orlando residents, it celebrated food and wine, which people from anywhere can appreciate and enjoy. It reminded festival-goers of the joy of sharing recipes, cooking, walking around outside, socializing, listening to live jazz and eating food all types, reaffirming my love affair with food (and my boyfriend, for bringing me).