Thanksgiving dinner promises to be interesting

I don't generally speak in moral absolutes, but waffles out of a spray can, organic or otherwise, are just wrong. Like the blogger says, make your own waffles, people. And like this other blogger says, broaden your horizons. Like she said, I'll accommodate food allergies and committed, principled dietary restrictions (vegetarianism, veganism, etc.), and I'm not going to watch what you eat or nag you about what you don't eat, but I'm not going to be told what you don't abide. If you don't like something, don't eat it.

That post actually resonated because, as I mentioned, I'm not sure how my parents are going to take to the Thanksgiving menu I have planned. I don't cook meat or poultry, so turkey is out. There will be shrimp, so they can't complain about protein deficiency. And they should be fine with the roasted vegetables. Most people love my moussaka; if they don't, they don't have to eat it, even though it will be the hearty/centerpiece dish. We'll see how the soup goes over; I've now changed that to Mark Bittman's Thai squash soup. I think I'll make ginger scones, too.

***
Actually, I just talked to mom.

A.: I’m not sure whether Mirella’s joining us for Thanksgiving Dinner or coming by at another time. I’ve also invited a couple of friends who have asked me about Thanksgiving plans—I’m not sure whether one or both will come, but they might.
Mom: Great! Oh, we’re bringing duck.
A.: Fine. Bring something to cook it on, too.
Mom: Okay. What about these other people that may be coming—are they vegetarians, too?
A.: No, but I’ve had Thanksgiving with both of them before and they don’t consider meat an essential part of the meal.
Mom: Ha! They’re just being polite.
A.: Doubtful. One of those Thanksgivings was hosted by someone else, and it was entirely vegan. They just don’t care.
Mom: They just wouldn’t tell you if they did care.
A.: Or they’d go elsewhere for Thanksgiving.
Mom: Maybe they enjoy you’re company.

OMG, we’ve come full circle: mom is still arguing that my friends are just being polite, but in this case, it’s because they actually do enjoy my company, if not my food. I actually prefer this than mom’s usual ‘they’re just being polite,’ which entails my friends’ putting up with me out of loyalty even though I’m socially overbearing.

Mom: How many days are we coming for? Do I need to bring other food? Herring?
A.: No. No herring.
Mom: But… but…
A.: You can go one Sunday without herring. I’d never get the smell out of my house.
Mom: I don’t know if I can go a Sunday without herring. It’s fish—you eat fish.
A.: I don’t eat salt-cured fish.
Mom: I don’t know about this.
A.: No.