Living in a foreign country, I’m well aware that on a day-to-day basis my actions are viewed as somewhat absurd by those around me. The sideways stares and furrowed brows have become a bit of the background music to my life. This weekend was no exception.
With ovens being a bit of a commodity here, the silent partner for this whole ordeal was to be my slow-cooker. Factor in the need for specific ingredients, a 5 hour bus journey, two transfers, and a 20 minute walk and we’re looking at a daunting venture. I was met with a few firmer stares than usual as passersby glanced in the direction of the stifled grunts along the way. I guess a redhead heaving under the weight of canned goods isn’t as common as high heels on a hike.
Having served time with hard labor upon arrival, putting the finishing touches on my stuffing felt like a walk in the park. I’m happy to report that the slow-cooker worked fabulously as an incubator of gooey goodness.
This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful to our founding fathers for adding gluttony to the national agenda.
That was the best stuffing ever! Post the recipe please!