Feliz Thanksgiving

Are you headed to the grocery store again?
Not sure what you're cooking tomorrow?

Well, lucky me. I have a sister-in-law who is cooking this year. I'm on deck for my gingersnap, pumpkin flan though. Finger-licking bueno.

I'm reposting the recipes I followed last year -- because they are damned good and if you still are looking for dishes with a Latino flavor, well, here you go.

I hope you all are warm and safe and happy and sitting with people you love tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving y'all.

Cinco de Maria

Overheard this week at my house:

Father: "You know what I love about you so much?''

Daughter: "What do you love?''

Father: "You make me laugh so much. I love that we laugh so much.''

Daughter: "Yeah!''

And, what I love is overhearing those tender exchanges, those supportive and heart-filling things all little girls should hear from their daddies. Always.

My husband's adoration of his child is probably extra joyful to me because it took eight years to convince him fatherhood would rock, of telling him a child would bring us "comic relief.'' At 51, he cried at the sound of his only child's first shout out of the womb. He is, for sure, the most patient, creative and devoted father. (Much more patient than the mother.) 

Maria and I count our blessings for him. I count my blessings for them.

Our daughter turns 5 in the a.m., a countdown which she started several months ago. We're not doing a big party, though she has asked. Well, it's part bad planning on my part, for a Thanksgiving Week birthday is a tough one for this Mami to manage. 

But, honestly I'm hugely glad my girl, her father and I will celebrate her day quietly. It's not about bigness and stuff, we often tell her. It's about the moments, like the one I described above, that will last a lifetime. Gifts she will keep forever.

La Nena is reading, so she's a genius. Of course.

The generation who isn't growing up with regular calls of "sangandongo'' and repeated threats of chancletasos think highly of themselves, according to a story today in USA Today. Maybe a little too highly.

I ponder this as I watch Maria learn to read and believe she is, like, It! I really do. But, maybe I shouldn't tell her so much or risk creating un malcriada...

God and laundry

On the way to church:

"Remember, no talking in church.''

"Why can't we talk? I want to talk to you.''

"Because people go to church to hear the pastor and to be close to God. We can listen best to God when we are quiet and still.''

"I listen to God too. When I don't know which laundry basket has the clean clothes and which laundry basket has the dirty clothes, I get really quiet and God tells me. That's how I know.''

Maybe God's way of telling me to put the laundry away a little quicker?

Alabao!

What are you doing this weekend?

The picture above is the view from the Middle Tennessee house I rented last weekend with four longtime and dear girlfriends. I wrote about it over at Parenting.com. Beautiful, huh? (You should have seen the swinging bed! No kidding. Tacky fun.)

This weekend will find me as art director, cook and chauffer to La Nena -- much different than an afternoon sipping champagne in a hot tub with girlfriends. 

Is it possible that some women don't go on Chick Weekends? Lo siento mucho for them, if so.

Whatever you're doing this weekend, may it be beautiful.

Country Girl longs for City Life

It is my custom to encourage Maria to celebrate the dawn of each new day by admiring and giving thanks for the bright sun, the cool mist, even the gray rain. 

Yesterday morning when I pointed out the glorious gold of the leaves and the clear, bright sky and the rolling bucolic fields near our home, she matter-of-factly said:

"Mami, I don't want to live in the country anymore.''

"You don't? Why not?''

"Because, I want to live in a city where I can wear pretty dresses everyday.''

Ay, Princesa, you are Abuelita's granddaughter, says the Mami with guinea fowl poo on her botas.

Latino Family Holiday Gift Guide

casaq.com

The Christmas decorations came out in some local stores before Halloween. Me muero. I truly am no fan of so much red and green and gold and glitter so soon in the season because it obscures my favorite holiday: Thanksgiving.

I love Thanksgiving because it's about eating and relaxing with people you love, no need for a present just your presence.

That said, the reality is it is time to start thinking about gifts. 

We're all cutting back, for sure, so as you consider how best to spend your dinerito let me introduce you to a list of great goods that celebrates Latino culture and supports small American business (yes, like mine.)

Please visit the Latino Family's Holiday Gift Guide, which has been created by Monica from Latin Baby. You will find unique and affordable gifts such as ornaments, jewelry, Spanish instruction CDs, dolls and yes, Pollitos.

Happy Shopping and Prospero Ano Nuevo. Emphasis on the Prospero!

Chocoflan: Whether you're feeling life is bitter or sweet today

 www.comidakraft.com

Buenos Dias, America the free and the brave.

Whether your candidate won or lost last night, I hope you're celebrating the fact you had a choice. If your team won, I hope you carry that energy and joy forward to unite and better your community and if your team lost, take that energy and work for the change you want to see.

Today's post is about food -- because really both sides of the aisle can agree that food makes it all better, whether you're out of your gourd with joy or despair.

So, check out this Chocoflan recipe I discovered. I had no damned idea one could combine flan with chocolate cake until Kraft sent me a freebie mag this week filled with Latino holiday recipes. I do believe angels sang when I opened the page to the chocoflan recipe. I vote Kraft the Winner.

Here's the recipe from the Kraft site in Spanish and another version in English from Recipezaar. Notice that the Kraft version uses dulce de leche as the topping, and not just plain caramel topping. The Spanish one also uses 7 eggs versus 3.  (Here's a Rick Bayless version)

There are differences for sure, but hey, what the hell, you end up with chocolate and flan and dulce de leche together no matter which you use. That is a winner in my book.

Election Day Winner of First Spanish Words book

And, on this Election Day, the winner of the First Spanish Words book was picked in a far less Democratic way than the new president will be: My daughter closed her eyes and pointed at a printout.

So, here you go and congratulations. No recount required.

modern mami said...

That sounds like a great book. I always forget that querer is really supposed to be querrer. But, being Puerto Rican, we mess up a LOT of words. LOL

7:35 AM 

Thanks to all who participated. As Keen said, I love reading your answers too.

OK, gente...if you haven't already voted, get to it. Exercise your rights and participate in the most important of civic duties. 

If you're still confused, still looking for some answers, delete the crazy spammy stuff from your in-boxes and try these non-partisan sites:

Factcheck.org

Politifact.com

Celebrating Papa

Miami, 1991

A week ago, a relative I love told me my grandfather, my Papa, would be upset with a choice I have made. After I flinched at the thought, I remembered my grandfather was a kind and fair man who forgave choices with consequences graver than the one my relative accused me of. Much graver. 

Today is All Saints Day, a day celebrated in Christianity to remember those you loved while they were still flesh and continue to love and miss in death. My grandfather's name -- along with a couple of others I requested -- were added to the banners of the little church where we are congregants. It was a little odd to see the names of my Cuban relatives on banners in a little town in Tennessee, right alongside people whose lives must have been very different.

The connection, of course, is that they're all people who have left their mark on the living. A human truth, no matter where you're from, or what language you speak. 

I've written here a lot about my grandmother, a cranky soul whose lessons and love I carry close. But, I haven't said that much about my grandfather. Maybe because his lessons were more quiet. He taught more by action than by word. 

My grandfather watched the 11 o-clock news and went out to buy the early edition of the newspaper every evening. Maybe that's how I fell in love with news. He taught me to drive, he told me stories about his childhood in Cuba, his schooling in Kentucky, the revolution that forced the uprooting of his family. 

My grandfather was the guy you called if your car died, the man who gladly took care of his widowed mother and regularly cried as he washed his oldest daughter's headstone. 

My pastor reminded us today that we will again see the souls we have loved. I hope that to be true. Whether or not that is the case though, I know that what my eyes do not see, my heart does. And, my heart always celebrates how lucky I am to have had a particular man as my Papa.

Whom are you celebrating today?