My idea of hell is having a stomach bug on Thanksgiving day. Why, God, why? Bryantís brother and sister-in-law made the most delicious roasted turkey, Italian-sausage stuffing, cinnamon-infused sweet potatoes and creamy crŤme brulee. I wanted to dive in until I was in a food coma as is my usual Thanksgiving fashion, but had to pace myself as my stomach cramped up.
Still, I couldnít help but be distracted from my illness while I watched in awe as my host and hostess did their thing: they decorated the table with home-made, orchard-adorned center pieces, were vigilant about filling wine glasses and could actually hold a relaxed conversation while they basted the turkey. Geez, I canít even flip burgers at a barbecue without getting all frazzled. I think some people are just gifted with the entertaining gene, and, unfortunately, I donít think that Iím one of them.