Thanksgiving Down Under

Never again.  Sometimes I wonder why I even take the time to make an effort to please my husband.  Mr. Smith has never liked or appreciated a single thing I've ever cooked.  I wonder if he ever complimented his mom's cooking?

No matter what is cooked...  when I ask him how it is, he always gives some variation of, "It's alright." Seriously.  I'm not kidding.

So I looked for a fresh turkey, but there is no fresh turkey here.  I should clarify - I couldn't find a fresh turkey.  The cheapest frozen turkey was just under $60.  Not to mention that our oven is essentially a mini-oven.  There's no way you could fit a turkey in there anyway.  So I ended up getting a frozen turkey thigh traditional roast.  Honestly, I though it was awesome.  Of course, Mr. Smith complained that it was dark meat.  Well, that's what I prefer and he always gets his way.  And as I've already mentioned, he wouldn't like anything I cooked anyway.  Why force myself to eat dry meat when he wouldn't like it either?

Mr. Smith loves stuffing.  They don't have stuffing as we know it here.  You basically buy a box of breadcrumbs and then have to add other stuff.  Now, we usually added onion and celery to the stuffing mix we got in the states, so we did the same thing here.  I guess if we're ever making stuffing again, we should really make the stuffing.  I'll have to buy bread and cut it up and let it dry out.

What am I saying?  Am I nuts?  A glutton for punishment?  Why go through all the trouble when he won't appreciate or like it anyway?  I must be out of my mind.

Anyhoo, here's the stuffing mix we bought:

Okay, I hope you are sitting down.

There are no biscuits here.  I mean real biscuits.  Not cookies.

So I decided that I would make a batch of biscuits from scratch.  This meant that I had to find a recipe for southern biscuits.  Then I had to find the ingredients here.  Not too much of a problem once I realized that baking soda is called bicarbonate soda here.  Then I had to convert grams of butter into tablespoons.  Then I had to convert the Farhenheit temperature into Celsius.

I got them all baked up and I was so excited.  They looked good.  They smelled good.  They tasted good.

When I asked Mr. Smith how they were, he told me that they tasted "funny."  Honestly, I give up.  He talks about us running a bed and breakfast place together in Vermont.  No freaking way.  Obviously, I cannot cook.  He hates everything I make.  I like (pretty much) everything I cook.  So either I have terrible taste or ...

The last thing on the menu is the apple pie that Mr. Smith found and baked up.  It was frozen and not made by my hands, so I'm sure he's going to love it.

Our Thanksgiving (overall) pretty much sucked.

I hope yours was better.  :)