Oscar Goes Young

The news that James Franco and Anne Hathaway are hosting this year's Oscars makes me all kinds of cranky.  Like most things in life, the SJG takes this news as a personal affront, an insult to my very being.  They may as well post a billboard on Sunset: "Oscar Goes Young.  Deal With It, Bitches."  This is such an obvious appeal to edgier Generation Text, who know Franco more for "Pineapple Express" than "127 Hours," and Hathaway more for "The Devil Wears Prada" than "Rachel Getting Married."  True, they are both talented and super nice to look at it.  James Franco is funny when he's not acting all weird and spacey.  Anne Hathaway can sing, as she proved in that opening number when Hugh Jackman hosted the Oscars.  So fine, this may turn out to be the most inspired pairing since that Rob Lowe-Snow White duet in the '80s.  We shall see.  I'm just so glad they didn't pick Chelsea Handler. 

Don't Call Him Shirley

Dr. Rumack: Can you fly this plane, and land it?
Ted Striker: Surely you can’t be serious.
Rumack: I am serious… and don’t call me Shirley.

We Won't Be Fooled Again

The old dishwasher heads out the back door, in disgust: 
"I've had it with you slobs."

The new dishwasher, installed by
hubby, settles in: "I've got this."

There was flooding in the streets

With our buckets at our feet
And the towels that we stockpile were all gone
And the thing that spurred us on
Up and quit, is was all wrong
On Turkey Day it broke and sang its song
We tip our hats to the new generation
Efficiency, the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up our Visa and pay
Just like yesterday
Then we'll get on our knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
The dishwasher got way too old, that's all
And the new one looks just the same
And history ain't changed
We won't get fooled again
Won't get fooled again
No, no!
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Meet the new dish
Same as the old dish
Only better
(apologies to The Who)

Who Said What?

Here's a fun game.  Match who said what at my house on Thanksgiving.  Win bupkis.
1. "@#*$!  It's still leaking."
a. Hubby
b. SJG
c. Roto Rooter
d. Robo Cop
2. "Where's my eff'n wine glass?"
a. Grandpa Benjy
b. Grandpa Skippy
c. Scotty the Youngest
d. SJG
3. "These goddamn bitch-ass matches."
a. Hunky firefighter
b. Cousin Amy
c. Uncle John
d. Billy the Eldest
4. "Please don't call it, 'that burnt bird.'"
a. Big Bird
b. Ornithology Society of Sherman Oaks
c. Tweety Bird
d. SJG
5. "I called it bird meat."
a. Felix the Cat
b. Tony the Tiger
c. Billy the Eldest
d. Uncle Dan
6. "I lost my eff'n wine glass again."
a. Hubby
b. Scotty
c. SJG
d. Billy
7. "If you hadn't told us about the turkey or the dishwasher, we never would've known."
a. Grandma Char
b. Martha Stewart
c. Cousin Andy
d. Aunt Elly
8. "But that's my schtick.  Neurotic, needy and self-deprecating."
a. Joan Rivers
b. Phyllis Diller
c. SJG
d. Cher
9. "Gluten-free pumpkin pie?"
a. Allison
b. Aunt Marion
c. Scotty
d. Grandpa Benjy
10. "I've had enough of you people."
a. Hubby
b. SJG
c. Lucas
d. all of the above
(Answers:  Oh, hell no.)

I Blame Martha

What do you have to say for yourself?

It's always good to warn your guests that maybe things didn't go according to plan.  That way, they know not to expect much.  Rather than say, "Wait till you taste the turkey, mmm good," I like to issue a warning.  "Come on in, I almost destroyed the turkey." "Love your scarf.  I almost burned down the house."  "Your coat is so soft!  How do you feel about charbroiled turkey?"  I blame Martha Stewart.  Her stupid cheesecloth method didn't work, mainly because I didn't follow directions, but that's beside the point.  I watched her do it on the Today Show, and she said nothing about making sure you use lots of layers of cheesecloth.  Or, if she did, I sure as hell didn't hear her.  So I set the oven at 450, I put in the turkeys, smothered in butter and sherry-drenched stupid cheesecloth, and when the birds turned, what's the word I'm looking for, black, and the house filled with smoke, and hubby gave me one of his famous looks (he has two looks, pissed, and really pissed), I thought, uh, holy sh*t, what up with that?  In panic mode,  I called Amy, my spiritual turkey guide. "Amy?  Is it supposed to be black?" She said yes, the cheesecloth is indeed supposed to be black.  "So the turkey isn't really black, it's just the cheesecloth, right?"  A long pause on the other end.  "Well, yeah, but maybe you should check under the cheesecloth."  "Okay, hang on.  Oh, no.  Oh, God.  I think I eff'd up.  Gotta go."  I turned the oven down to 325, I took off the stupid cheesecloth, I wrapped my birds in foil and prayed.  Then I went to turn on the dishwasher and it broke.  Yes, water poured out.  It was the great flood of Sherman Oaks.  Then hubby started swearing.  I ran to get the bucket and towels.  Many hours of testy behavior followed.  At some point, the guests arrived and claimed that the turkey was wonderful.  Of course, they'd all been drinking.  They could've been eating tree bark.  What did they know?  Tomorrow, the new dishwasher arrives.  Hubby plans to install it himself.  I plan to be out of town.

Thanksgiving Means Thanks Living

The SJG obsessively checks the turkeys

Table for 10

Tables for 10 more

We have two expressions at this time of year:  "Bring out the first turkey!" (Alka Seltzer), and "Thanksgiving means thanks living," (my mother's rabbi in Chicago).  Oh, and one more thing:  "Why so chintzy with the wine?  Fill 'er up."  This year, I'm cooking my cuzzie-caterer Amy's (http://www.amysculinaryadventures.com/) take on Martha Stewart's Turkey 101.  Martha bastes with melted butter and wine, but Amy bastes with melted butter and Harvey's Bristol Creme Sherry. Amy says it's downright upright, and I believe her, as it involves cheesecloth, starting the bird at a high temperature (which makes the SJG very very nervous) and basting, basting, basting, every freakin' half hour.  My house smells so good, it's obscene.  I've got the Macy's Parade on, I've got a nice hubby anticipating various televised sporting events, I've got two sons asleep upstairs, I've got an eight-year-old dog named Dusty that thinks he's still a puppy.  I've got my health.  What more could a short Jewish gal want?

The Dessert Maven

"A 22 year old will do anything to infuse alcohol
 into his dessert." - Billy Schneider

Billy's Chocolate Rum Balls for Thanksgiving
(unless they get eaten before Thursday)
Ingredients: 3 1/4 cups crushed vanilla wafers
3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 1/2 cups chopped walnuts
3 tablespoons light corn syrup 1/2 cup rum
Directions: In a large bowl, stir together the crushed vanilla wafers, 3/4 cup confectioners' sugar, cocoa, and nuts. Blend in corn syrup and rum. Shape into 1 inch balls, and roll in additional confectioners' sugar. Store in an airtight container for several days to develop the flavor. (Refrigeration optional.)  Roll again in confectioners' sugar before serving.

"You have ruined the surprise, and humiliated
me for the last time, Mother." - anonymous son