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| The professionally prepared and staged version (aka: NOT OURS) |
We easily gathered all needed supplies, except for the goat cheese which somehow on this weekend was harder to find than Ohio State's defense. Alas, four stores, one day and a game of Rummikub with L's brother later, we began our culinary adventure.
A recipe requiring two cups of Chianti only meant we would need to sample the remaining portion, which we saw as a win/win situation. We quickly came to the realization that the blatant lies printed on this "recipe" would lead to the quick evaporation of the leftover secret ingredient. Though, we were quite impressed with ourselves as we somehow knew this was going to happen. Our amateur soothsaying led us to purchasing a second bottle of Chianti on our goat cheese scavenger hunt for us to partake with dinner.
Unsurprisingly, it was opened much sooner.
The recipe indicated 3 1/2 cups of semolina flour to go along with the Chianti and three eggs, incorporate it all together slowly, then when it all becomes a giant ball of dough - chill it for a couple of hours. When all of our previously mentioned ingredients were mixed, it was still sticky enough that making it into a ball (and not a tabletop La Brea Tar Pit) would have required freezing it. We proceeded to add handfuls of regular flour until it could be manufactured into a spherical shape reminiscent of a ball of dough - 30 minutes longer than indicated by this public broadcasting fake news recipe.
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| The not-so professionally prepared and staged version. Our Grimace Nuggets in Sage Butter Sauce. |
Finally at the cooking step L dropped the first few of the lumpy misshapen globs, some oozing their cream colored filling, into the boiling water. Watching their purple color evolve into a more opaque mauve as they danced in the salty brine, I imagine Grimace being banished from McDonaldland, cut into pieces and prepared for dinner as a once successful marketing campaign comes to a gloomy end.
Finished and sauced, they were quite tasty and did not imitate their repugnant appearance. These were very filling, as you can imagine, and bit more dough-like than they should have been - but not to the extent that could be mistaken for dumplings. It was a load of work, but we made time for it and will do it again. The next time we will be better prepared for the quirks of this recipe made by someone who had to have downed a bottle of Chianti before putting their work into whatever words, phrases and steps they could remember at that point in time.
This was our Thanksgiving dinner to us. The extended family Thanksgiving would take place on the holiday itself and for a second time would include running the Thanksgiving Wattle with my brother-in-law, maybe my eldest niece, Lauren and whoever else has the wherewithal to get up early and run on a mid-November morning.Last year's initial family turkey wattle included my brother and unseasonable cold, even for Central Ohio. He isn't in town this year and we are expected to have relatively normal temps around 30 something or other, and possibly some sun.
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The 7th Annual Thanksgiving Wattle 5K Run/Walk selected the Grove City Food
Pantry as the local charity to support. Last year this event raised
$21,000 for the Grove City Food Pantry, this year that amount was $23,000.
We arrive under a cloudy sky and a less than stellar 28 degrees, but we'll take the 28 over the near single digit temps of last year. My brother-in-law Chad, L and Niece Calli would run the 5k and Nephew Reed would try is hand at the kids fun run. My sister, Jill, would take pictures and Niece Abby would be sipping hot chocolate and laugh at us.
We arrive under a cloudy sky and a less than stellar 28 degrees, but we'll take the 28 over the near single digit temps of last year. My brother-in-law Chad, L and Niece Calli would run the 5k and Nephew Reed would try is hand at the kids fun run. My sister, Jill, would take pictures and Niece Abby would be sipping hot chocolate and laugh at us.
It was definitely cold, but we've experienced much worse. We watched Nephew Reed take part in the kids fun run and the 7 year-old did really well despite tripping over himself about 20 meters in and the subsequent face-plant. Though, he was quite the trooper - jumping right back up and avoided creating a domino effect with the other flailing arms and legs of the prepubescent neighborhood offspring involved.
He moved to the outside, passed a few more kids, made the turn and finished in 6th or 7th place. Not bad for unexpectedly eating asphalt Thanksgiving morning. For the rest of us it did get a bit warmer mingling in the crowd of participants at the starting line, but that would quickly change.
At the gun two or three of the younger folks were brave enough to wear just the singlet and shorts, but I was among the many others who only had the skin of their face exposed to the elements. Of course, it would get warmer as you move along but a quarter mile in and I couldn't feel my fingers (even with gloves on) and my legs were in between being loose and numb. Out of the corner of my eye I see my sister and Niece Abby yell out some encouragement. I felt like I was going relatively fast as a crowd of teens & 20-somethings help pull me along. A few were well ahead, others were close enough to mistaken me for some sort of competition.
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| Headed for the finish |
At one mile I'm chasing about ten others and despite not really knowing how fast I'm going, I was happy with the 5:42. Probably a bit faster than I want, but anything will do to keep my frozen fingers off of my mind. Focusing on those in front of me, I attempt to keep pace as we pass the race entertainment - A girl with a guitar bellowing out some impressive covers, then a high school pep band further down. We reach the turn around and I'm a distance behind all of those in front - and the likelihood of catching them is slim - and those directly behind me aren't all that close either. I stick to focusing on form and pace as we travel the rolling terrain.
I reach mile two and can feel I've slowed down a bit, but still I'm pushing beyond a leisurely pace with a 6:09. Sort of on an island on the return trip I glance now and then to those still headed for the turn around on the opposite side. I see L and gesture in her direction, she follows suit. A short time later, the same occurs with Chad & Calli.
I stare down those in front of me I can still make out and use them to motivate myself, hoping to at least maintain my current effort. Soon enough I see the turn for the final 150 meter down hill finish, I turn and look straight ahead in enough time to see the clock at 17:55 - BAH, so close! Disappointed, I just keep pushing stride and work my way in to stop my watch at 18:20. I was faster than the previous year, but finished one place worse in the 9th position. The next person up was still more than 25 seconds ahead and those directly behind were three and four seconds off. I was happy with the finish, but that damn 18:00 minute mark is still eluding me. It was nice to know that of the eight runners ahead of me, the closest in age was 9 years younger and my third mile was a second faster than mile two.It was quite impressive for the rest of our crew. Smashing her most recent PR and blowing away her goal, L cruised in at 24:50. Niece Calli and Chad bested their time from the previous year by four minutes, coming in together at 26:35. All in all, a great performance from everyone making more room for that much more turkey, stuffing and the rest of the Thanksgiving smorgasbord. Including my Uncle Mike bringing his "Spurkey". Spam molded into the shape of a turkey, then cooked. Its okay if you don't understand, we were born into it...things like this are common place. We were able to wash it down with a growler of Flying Fat Man Christmas Ale from Staas Brewing and the last of the Oktoberfest brewed with hazelnuts, figs and dried cherries I made a little over a month ago.
We aren't sure you can call the Thanksgiving 5k a family tradition yet since it was only year number two, but it is something different and fun to add to the November Thursday holiday. People will tell you doing such things don't make much sense and will poke fun with all the things you could be doing that, to them, are more worthwhile, less strenuous and warmer. And those things may be true, but it isn't about running or the race itself. It's about throwing caution into the wind and having the guts to take that step to make a memory or leap into the unknown and find out who you really are...
I find it hard to say the things
I want to say the most
Find a little bit of steady as I
get close
Find a balance in the middle of
the chaos
Send me low, send me high, send
me never demigod
I remember walking in the cold of
November
Hoping that I make it to the end
of December
27 years and the end on my mind
But holding to the thought of
another time
But looking to the ways of the
ones before me
Looking for the path of the young
and lonely
I don't want to hear about what
to do
I don't want to do it just to do
it for you
Hello, hello
Let me tell you what it's like to
be a zero, zero
Let me show you what it's like to
always feel, feel
Like I'm empty and there's
nothing really real, real
I'm looking for a way out
Hello, hello
Let me tell you what it's like to
be a zero, zero
Let me show you what it's like to
never feel, feel
Like I'm good enough for anything
that's real, real
I'm looking for a way out
I find it hard to tell you how I
want to run away
I understand it always makes you
feel a certain way
I find a balance in the middle of
the chaos
Send me up, send me down
Send me never demigod
I remember walking in the heat of
the summer
Wide eyed one with a mind full of
wonder
27 years and I've nothing to show
Falling from the dove to the dark
of the crow
Looking to the ways of the ones
before me
Looking for a path of the young
and lonely
I don't want to hear about what
to do, no
I don't want to do it just to do
it for you
Hello, hello
Let me tell you what it's like to
be a zero, zero
Let me show you what it's like to
always feel, feel
Like I'm empty and there's
nothing really real, real
I'm looking for a way out
Hello, hello
Let me tell you what it's like to
be a zero, zero
Let me show you what it's like to
never feel, feel
Like I'm good enough for anything
that's real, real
I'm looking for a way out
Let me tell you bout it
Let me tell you bout it
Maybe you're the same as me
Let me tell you bout it
Let me tell you bout it
They say the truth will set you
free
Hello, hello
Let me tell you what it's like to
be a zero, zero
Let me show you what it's like to
always feel, feel
Like I'm empty and there's
nothing really real, real
I'm looking for a way out
Hello, hello
Let me tell you what it's like to
be a zero, zero
Let me show you what it's like to
never feel, feel
Like I'm good enough for anything
that's real, real
I'm looking for a way out
Photos of all the fun
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| Attempting to knead the mass |
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| Adding the filling |
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| Turkey babies for roasting, or homemade tortelli? |
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| Abby, Calli, Chad, Reed, L and I |
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| Reed in the black & green, shortly after the face-plant. |
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| Calli and Chad finishing |
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| At my mom's later in the day, just a portion of the massive feast. |
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| The "Spurkey" |
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