On Thursday Carol organized a US style Thanksgiving Day in our Cambridge home for six friends. By US style I mean the full works of turkey, mash potato, green beans and other vegetables with pumpkin pie to follow. Procuring pumpkin pie proved difficult and this problem assumed increasing proportion as obvious avenues to purchasing it turned into dead-ends. Alas, the success of Thanksgiving seemed to become highly dependent on getting pumpkin pie one way or another. Then Carol remembered the US serviceman who sometimes works at our local corner shop. Calling him she asked if her was going to be on the air-force base and could go into the stores for a pie. To her joy, he said he would try and a couple of days later announced his success. There was delirium. Thanksgiving would turn out OK after all!
Our friends arrived and the first course went swimmingly. Carol announced we were having genuine pumpkin pie and our friends duly showed amazement. None of them had tried it before. Carol brought it in on a large platter. However, as she cut the first slice, one observant guest noted that the pastry crust did not seem to be cooked, nor the very runny contents. Rushing to the bin and fishing out the discarded box with instructions it became clear (too late) that it needed to be cooked for 65 minutes. There was instant mirth and it turned out to be the day's highpoint of jollity, and continued to echo as sub-theme for the next few hours. Fortunately, Carol had some back-up desserts and the cooked pumpkin pie made the rounds with a cup of tea later in the afternoon.
The back-ups required ice-cream which I took out of the freezer and dispensed with aplomb. However, while replacing it I failed to notice that it fouled the freezer drawer. I thought I had closed it firmly but 18 hours later, as ice cream dripped on the floor, I realized my mistake. Some freezer contents had melted, others were past redemption in their soggy packages.
We shall remember Thanksgiving 2016 for some really good sharing as well as other things! Hospitality is to be commended but just occasionally it has unforeseen consequences.