Actual Blog Content Follows

Yes, yes, yes. I am blogging. I mean blogging-blogging.

Not that there is all that much to report, but I figured my multicontinental audience deserves some actual bloggery every now and again, and not just YouTubing and mild whinging about the precarious* state of the economy in general.

The main thing to keep in mind is that Eating Season (ES) is nearly upon us.

ES, by my lights, begins with Halloween and wraps up around Easter. Much like an old-fashioned rollercoaster, it uses its own internal momentum to propel you from one eat-fest to the next. Granted, the touchstones of which I refer are purely USAish, even our Canadian first cousins have some variations. So your mileage (or kilometrage) may vary.

OK. This is how it goes:

Oct. 31, Halloween - Mostly children, mostly gorging on $#!+ candy. Half of which will be gone by All Souls' Day -- in some parts of the Iberosphere this is called Day of the Dead or Día de los Muertos, FYI -- and the rest is gnawed away steadily until we get to

Nov. 27, Thanksgiving - The supreme, eat-fest, by my estimation. This is the only holiday I can think of which is based on near-gluttonous mania, compounded by expressing massive thanks to the Almighty for having the opportunity to ingest half a ton of L-Tryptophan-laden foodstuff and then crumpling in a digestive stupor. The nice thing is that more often than not, the food featured here can actually be -- there are no guarantees, natch -- pretty decent.

Even when relatives descend upon you in numbers rivaling a brigade, you will have monumental leftovers with which to contend. These will not only strain your creativity in serving them to your family, they will more seriously strain your creativity in making them fit in your refrigerator. You may be forgiven for wondering if Christ descended into your kitchen when you weren't looking and doing something of that loaves-and-fishes thing with your turkey and stuffing, because it will surely seem as though you have more left over than with what you started.

Still, my favorite Thanksgiving leftover thing is a sort of variant of Shepherd's Pie, which involves shredded bits of turkey tossed in a bit of gravy, topped by leftover stuffing and baked briefly to warm through and crisping the top. By the time you get around to finishing off all those leftovers it will be

Dec. 25, Christmas** - Depending on whence your forebears hail, the beast roasting merrily in the oven might be porcine (Italian & Iberic), ovine (French and Greek, I think), bovine (I'm guessing somewhere in England) or avian (everyone else, including some English and/or Americans. Although I might be wrong.). These choices also bring forth a dizzying variety of side dishes, none of them in the "light and clean" end of the spectrum. THEN you must schlep to the houses of the people whom you didn't see on your subculture's big day (i.e. if you normally go big on the 24th, then you do your schlepping on the 25th, if you normally do thing on the 25th, then you spread yourself out on the 26th, etc.) for varying days to exchange gifts and bemoan the horrifying racket the children are making. This lasts until

Dec. 31/Jan. 1, New Year's Eve/Day - This day carries a lot more fluid weight, if you see what I mean, than all the others. The food tends to come at you posher and smaller; and, because you're standing up and half-tanked to start, you consume even more of both fluids and solids than you might ordinarily. (A bit of advice, and I know the more seasoned revelers among us will agree, if you can moderate your intake of potables and edibles, there is an excellent chance your beloved will wish to avail him/herself of the wo/manly bounty that is you, so plan accordingly.) The next day may seem like Purgatory after an earthquake. Just roll with it and stay in your pajamas. The nice thing is that there are no leftovers with which to deal, the lousy thing is all those food gifts you received that must be consumed. These will probably carry you until

Feb. 14, St. Valentine's Day - Go out to dinner with your beloved and half of the civilian population of the western world. The more romantic the dinner the more diminished the chances for anyone availing her/himself of anyone else's bounty. No leftovers, but something of a credit-card hangover. For a real hangover, we must arrive at

Mar. 17, St. Patrick's Day - Either cheapo lager dyed green (ew!) or Guinness or something in between, and a strong likelihood of corned beef and cabbage. You will feel inexpressively awful the next day and nobody will have availed him/herself of anything. But that brings us to the culmination of ES

Apr. 12, Easter*** - This brings a lot of factors together in one ES-ending blowout: $#!+ candy, mythical characters bringing goodies to well-behaved children, tradition-laden meals of monumental proportions, varying degrees of religious observance, and ridiculous amounts of leftover food. And a coma that will take until October to dissipate.

Now you know.


* We are still "OK" and, God willing, shall remain so. But keep doing, on our behalf, whatever your theological proclivities suggest.

** There will be variations here if you are one of the Jewish kids or one of the Orthodox kids. Feel free to chime in. Either way, there will be masses of food, no getting away from that.

*** See above.


DUDE-you totally forgot Super Bowl Sunday, which varies from late Jan to early Feb., but it is totally an eating occasion!
Joke said…
I was (and am) somewhat torn on the whole Super Bowl thing as regards inclusion in the Eating Season, mostly because eating is somewhat peripheral to the day itself, and partially because my teams almost invariably lose, except for last year when the loathsome Patriots were spanked like a toddler at Wal-Mart.

But, I hereby take your suggestion under advisement.

meggie said…
As we don't "do" Halloween or have a Thanksgiving here in Oz, or Aoteoroa, we have something called Grand Finals parties.
Depending on your choice of sport, or indeed, your sporting inclinations, the overindulgence may only be liquid, but there is usually a token of sausages, kebabs, 'steaks' or chops,burnt offerings, in the guise of A Barbeque, in preparation for the watching of the Grand Final. Or hideous dips, into which small (unwashed) fingers may be poked, at peril, in a series of lightning fast raids, to test 'Dad's reflexes',by the assembled kinder.
There may also be crisps or potato chips as we call them, plus small horrible tasting cracker biscuits poked, gouged, or dipped & forgotten & abandoned in a moment of frenzy when Gazza just missed kicking that goal or downing that try.
Come to think of it I am seriously glad I dont follow any sport. I would much prefer a hearty Thanksgiving of some sort!!

Sorry for hijacking your post comment box.
Anonymous said…
We do the porcine thing at Christmas, and add latkes to balance it all out.
Caro said…
You're making my stomach hurt.

Oh wait - that's the Halloween candy I stole from the kids.

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