What the duck?!

I know it's three days late, but Happy Thanksgiving! or Friendsgiving, as Amy calls it. Amy and Dave came over for dinner tonight. Mark made duck. Mark spent two days preparing the duck.

Because it was a special occasion, I dressed in my best outfit:

 

I was trying to look like my brother, Pete, in this photo. Instead, I just look upset. Anyway, the vintage "And Justice For All" shirt is my go-to for special holiday dinners. There is a bunch of Easter photos where I am wearing this particular shirt. If you think this is odd, just remember, my mother brought us up on watching a steady diet of movies like "Killer Klowns from Outer Space" on holidays.

Anyway, about the duck: my husband had spent two days preparing this duck. He had watched this movie again and again on NY Times' website about how to prepare a duck. He was confident in the duck department. After the initial half hour in the oven, the house smelled like I would imagine hell smelling. The downstairs of our house was filled with smoke from burning duck fat. I told my husband I had to leave. This is when I reminded my husband that NY Times wasn't perfect. Let's face it, they hired Jayson Blair.

I ended up going up to Tops on Mt. Read to buy Silk Soy Nog, as Wegmans on Mt. Read doesn't carry it. Many of the other Tops shopper gave me the hairy eyeball as I passed them in the aisles. I think the smell of burning duck fat traveled with me to the grocery store.

My husband tried so hard to make a perfect holiday meal. He had studied duck cooking videos, read the cookbooks and looked up websites. Cooking is one of his passions (the other is photography), and he really put his all into this dinner.  So, when the orange fell out of the duck's cavity, got covered in duck fat and practically caught on fire, I really felt for the guy.

However, after two hours, he produced this from the oven:

And I was thoroughly impressed!

Dinner was very tasty. In fact, I had someone who wanted seconds, thirds and more:

"Hello, there. You may have noticed me next to your chair. I would like all the duck, please."

Because it is the holiday season, I decided to extend the olive branch and call my father. I missed his call on Thanksgiving day and thought it would be a nice gesture to have him over for some duck.

He came. And brought my step-mother.

Now, I don't want you to think I have some sort of Disney-evil-stepmother complex. I don't. I don't think my stepmother is evil. She is just, um, different. 

My stepmother doesn't eat meat*. My dad said she would bring her own porridge if they came for dinner. She didn't. I offered her the last of the roasted brussels sprouts, which she told me "they don't have in China". She loved them. My dad also offered her the gravy for the mashed potatoes that was made with duck fat. Both my husband and I told him it was made with duck fat. He poured it on her mashed potatoes and brussels sprouts anyway and she loved it. Again, when I pointed out to him it was made with duck fat, he said, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

So I watched her slurp down the rest of the gravy. And I left it at that.

My dad brought dessert, which was nice:

"It's...smiling at me."

Overall, my husband did very well cooking and the evening was pleasant.

* This is not what makes her different. I don't each much meat or animal products either. She's just weird.