Anticipation

The seconds before the steaming bite of soup reaches my mouth.
The drive from my house to the coffee shop.
The hazy view of baking bread through the window in the oven door.
The small taste of turkey my Grandpa feeds me stealthily every year, before anyone has sat down at the table.

My favorite thing about food is the anticipation.  I adore the preparation, and Thanksgiving is no exception.  I research complicated recipes and dream up intricate presentations, much to my mom's disapproval.  I try the strangest recipes I can find, from pumpkin pie made from fully raw ingredients to a unique blend between cheesecake and pumpkin tart.  Cooking isn't fun if
I know how a recipe is going to turn out.  Food should be a wild adventure, but unfortunately it's a hard life for an adventurous oaf in high school.

Last year, I wanted to make Pumpkin Eggs--an inside out version of pumpkin pie.  My idea was shot down by my fearful mother, who's idea of adventure is exploring different ratios of peanut butter and bread for her morning toast.

This year my idea is better.  Pumpkin soup baked and served in adorable little pumpkins, garnished with basil and cream.

I will not back down.  This oaf wants an adventure.

Pictures to come,

Grace