Ode to the Food of Thanksgiving and Pecan Pie Bars

Ode to Thanksgiving Foods and How I Love Thee

For some, it's the green beans with onion rings,
For others the Watergate salad.
Some want new and improved treats
while others want foods of the past.

Here at the Pond, I'm very particular about food,
Particularly at Thanksgiving.
For you see, this is the one day of the year
that I gorge myself stupid.

I don't want your stuffed mushrooms,
Your fancy hors d'oeuvres,
I'm not eating any soup or seafood,
And don't you dare shove that stuffing in the bird.

Get the peels out of my mashed potatoes,
And the celery out of my dressing.
Don't even mention your fancy vegetables
And stop with the exotic flat bread.

You see, I come from a simple Texas family.
I grew up eating canned vegetables heated in the microwave with butter (squeeze butter),
steak fried like chicken,
and mesquite smoked turkey.

So you're welcome to your new ideas,
your new twists on tradition,
and your marsh mellow jello salads.
I appreciate the offer,
but I won't be having any.

For you see, there's only seven delicious foods I need,
for my perfect Thanksgiving.
And I can guarantee you won't find any of them,
in the new baking magazine.

Foodies, avert your eyes!
Culinary critics beware!
For what you're about to see,
Is true "simple food" that just can't be compared.



First, I need a good mesquite smoked turkey,
from the family favorite Robertson's.
If I had to choose a second favorite, it'd be Butterball,
No deep frying, Turducken or Tofu here.



Next, I need some good dressing.
But not the kind you're thinking.
Give me two bags of Pepperidge Farm stuffing and some chicken broth,
That's all you need to do.

Now for the mashed potatoes,
Made with love of course.
And a can of green beans or corn,
zapped with some butter and salt.


Don't forget the cranberry sauce,
straight from the can.
I don't care if you think it's tacky or gross,
It's the best thing since sliced bread.

Don't judge me!



A few dinner rolls later,
It's time for the pie.



Pecan, apple, or pumpkin,
They're all mighty fine.

And now, in case you're still hungry after your own perfect feast--have a pecan pie bar!


This came from the "Sweet and Simple" cookbook Marie gave me for my birthday.



I made them for our office Tex- Mex Thanksgiving and everyone loved them! That's right, instead of turkey and dressing we had tamales and tacos and pecan pie bars!

Be warned, they're quite addictive...


Pecan Pie Bars

2 cups of all purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/8 t. salt
1 1/4 butter, sliced and divided
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup corn syrup
4 eggs, beaten
2 1/2 cups pecans, ground
1 t. vanilla extract

Combine flour, sugar, salt in large mixing bowl; cut in 3/4 cup of butter until fine crumbs form. Press firmly into a 13x9 baking pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 17 to 20 minutes or until lightly golden. Add brown sugar, corn syrup and remaining butter to sauce pan. Bring to boil over medium heat and stir gently. Remove from heat, stir 1/4 of hot mixture into beaten eggs. Add remaining hot mixture and stir in pecans and vanilla. Pour into crust and bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes or until set. Cool on wire rack and cut into bars. Makes 16.

Did you read the latest Kitchen Magic below? Then go read! Tomorrow we have a new Twirl and more fun over the weekend! Happy Thanksgiving!

Kitchen Magic With Family

On the third day of Thanksgiving week,
the Blond Duck sang off key,
"I'm grateful for my buddy Libby!"





Well, I'm not just grateful for my buddy Libby, though I do adore her. I'm also grateful for my buddies Marie and Emma (seen above. We were in a pie coma.)

These three women are essential to my life, and the first ones I turn to for very different reasons. Poor Libby gets the brunt of my whining, not that poor Emma and Marie get their fair share. But not only did Libby have to deal with me sitting on her desk and pestering her for two years, she had to deal with me dragging her over to my house as often as she had a moment in her busy social calender.

Marie often gets e-mails full of my brilliant ideas and questions about cooking. I truly believe we're kindred artistic souls--she understands things a lot of people don't about me. I love when I catch her on instant messenger and talk for a minute before I scurry off to work.

I met Emma at a writing conference. Every since then, she's shifted through pages and pages of my work and offered tons of encouragement and support. If I hadn't had her, I might have given up on writing long ago. She also listened to weeks of whining about my job and other issues.

I like to whine.



Even the Babies understand the importance of friends, as you can clearly see with Bear and the Dolphin. They've become so attached the Dolphin now follows Bear to bed every night.

And, Invisible Friends, I have to thank you. People like Prudy, Lucy, the Noble Pig, Grace, Marjie, Bunny, Jane, Linda, Kelly, Katherine, Jen and Candy supported me back when no one was reading. They were the first to like all my stories, and have offered nothing but encouragement and support. You all mean a lot to me, and I strive to make you all happy every day.



Also, considering I just ate four of them, I'm very appreciative of biscuits and all breakfast foods, including my beloved waffles.

Biscuits are tasty.


I need to get on the treadmill now.


And now, a new edition of "Kitchen Magic". To read the previous edition, go here.
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"Who's here?" Sprinkles looked up from the chocolate chips cookie and peanut butter sandwich she had just made.

"My family!" Bizzy hissed, banging her head against the window. "They're here three days early! Why are they here three days early?"

"Ask them, not me." The fairy licked her lips and shoved the cookie sandwich in her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell back on the counter, a smear of peanut butter and chocolate spreading from her lips to her mouth. "That is so good," she mumbled in a state of reverence. "That is sooooooooooo good. I'm going to need three more of these." She sat up and began to try to shove the jar of peanut butter behind her wings.

"Would you stop eating and help me?" Bizzy snapped. "What am I going to do?" Her eyes widened and she moaned in dismay. "What am I going to do with you? Oh God!"

"With me?" Sprinkles looked up from shoving the sixth cookie behind her left wing. "I think the question is what I'm doing with you. I live here. This is my kitchen."

Bizzy rolled her eyes. "You're going to have to hide," she growled, watching her father try to peer through the wrong side of the peephole. "If they see you, everything will go to pot."

"You don't even know how to work a pot," Sprinkles retorted. "That's why I'm here." She hummed with glee and took another bite of her cookie sandwich. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head in ecstasy and she let out a very improper moan.

"Would you stop that?" Bizzy hissed, her cheeks flaming red. "You sound disgusting!"

"You would to if you were eating this," Sprinkles drawled, licking the peanut butter and chocolate off her fingers. "It's completely SINFUL." She sucked the mixture off her finger and exhaled deeply. Bizzy yelped as her parents knocked on the door.

"Bizzy?" her father's voice called. "Bizzy, are you here?"

"Hide!" Bizzy squeaked, clomping toward the door in her impractical fall boots. She pulled the old wooden door open and forced a smile on her face. "Mom, Dad! You're early!"

"We're sorry," her Mom apologized, stepping inside. "We heard the weather was going to be bad and wanted to beat the traffic."

"Plus, we wanted to help," her father boomed, his deep voice filling the tiny cabin. He looked around and raised his bushy eyebrows, ducking through the door. "Well, it's uh, charming, isn't it? Think it'll hold everyone?"

"Everyone?" Bizzy echoed, feeling her blood pressure beginning to rise. "There's just 11 of us, right? My brothers, grandma and grandpa, ya'll and me. That's 11."

Her dad grinned sheepishly at her. "Well....."

"Well what?" Bitty exploded.

"Your dad's sisters are coming with their husbands," her mother murmured. "And their children."

"And Uncle Bob," her dad added, his bushy eyebrows threatening to crawl off his face.

Bizzy took a deep breath, hoping her heart wouldn't explode into a million pieces all over the room. It was either that or screaming and bashing her skull into the hardest wall she could find.

"Mom, dad has seven sisters. And they each have four to five kids. And Uncle Bob is an alcoholic."

"And Mary," her mother added, shrinking back as Bizzy's neck physically twitched.

"And Bob's lesbian ex-wife," Bizzy muttered, biting the inside of her cheeks. Feel the pain, she thought to herself. Feel the pain. Feel the pain so you don't cause pain. Causing pain is bad. After another deep breath, she was able to keep her words calm. "Mom, this dinner is going to need to feed nearly 50. I don't have that kind of money."

"We're going to chip in," her mother said, her forehead wrinkling with worry and shame. "I'm sorry honey, we weren't trying to make you feel like you had to provide for all of us. They're just going on some hard times and your Daddy invited Sarah and she invited Mary and...well, you know how that goes."

"I know," Bizzy repeated numbly. She couldn't even peel a carrot, and she had to cook dinner for 50 people on $100. Even with a kitchen fairy, this was going to be impossible. Her chest was tight and her stomach felt as though it had been turned into a blender of acid. Any moment, she was going to be ill all over her shoes.

A loud clash rang out from the kitchen. Her dad's fuzzy eyebrows knit together and he rushed toward the noise.

Bizzy felt her heart drop to her toes and gasped. Sprinkles.

"No!" she cried, running after her dad. "Don't go in there!"

She heard her Dad swear and shout, "Wow! Oh Wow!"

To be continued.....

Tomorrow, we have a doubly delicious treat: an ode to the Blond Duck's favorite Thanksgiving foods and a delicious recipe AND a new Kitchen Magic. And by popular request, Twirl on Friday! Stay tuned for the end of Kitchen Magic this weekend and a look at the Blond Duck's Christmas decorations...remember, nothing is what it seems in the Pond! One more day until Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving for a Queen

On the second day of Thanksgiving Week, Queen Bitty said to me......

"Give me my own post or off with your head!"



Before I am chased by a four pound dictator with the world's sharpest nails, let me tell you what I'm grateful for for the second day of Thanksgiving week, both food and otherwise.



I'm thankful for my parents and sister. They help us out a lot, being an hour away, and it's nice to have them so close. My mom and sister always help me with things I'm terrible at, like decorating, shopping without killing someone and organizing. My dad always gives valuable advice, and I love hearing his stories of growing up in West Texas.



I also want to say I'm thankful for Ben's family, who have always been kind to me. It can't have been easy to see their son marry a pink twirling dancing maniac. And they actually read my blog. My parents have to read my blog. I'm their kid. Ben's parents choose too.

The poor things.



And, because I can't last five minutes without talking about food, I must admit the one food I am seriously grateful for: beef.


No matter how it's fixed--ground in bacon cheeseburgers, barbecued in ribs or brisket, sliced in nachos or tacos, smushed into meatballs, meat pies or meatloaf or gryos or sprinkled in pasta....

I could go on. The point is--I like beef. A lot. It's for dinner. And lunch. And breakfast.

Excuse me. I need to go find my fiber pills.

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And now, for Queen Bitty's Thanksgiving Declaration:




First, I would like to say thank you for the compliance and loyalty of my deplorable subjects. It seems my minions have done a good job of keeping you in line. I am pleased.

Oh, the wuffles!

Next, I would like to thank my faithful subject--er partner, Bear. With his permanent look of worry and tendency to wuffle when nervous, happy, excited or just breathing, the Blond Duck has never figured out I'm the one eating the carpet in the front hallway. My ploy is working!




I am grateful we're going to the Blond Duck's parent's house for Thanksgiving. This will give me the opportunity I need to brainwash her father into admiring me. He will submit!





As Queen, I am thankful to Ben for having a nice soft belly and hot smelly armpit to curl up in at night. I do enjoy sleeping in stinky warm places. It's like sleeping in a furry swamp.





I am thankful for my adorable looks and past career as a model. It's a lot easier to rule a country when you're pretty and can snarl at the press if they mention your tiny overbite.





I am grateful for the large amount of food and treats the Blond Duck's mom and sister bestow upon me. I deserve it.





You know you want to send me toys and treats. Look at me. Come on.






And last, I suppose I might be a tiny bit thankful for the Blond Duck.

I had to say that. She feeds me.

Now excuse me. I must return to my plans of world domination.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! Tomorrow, we have a new Kitchen Magic. On Thursday, we have an ode to the Blond Duck's favorite Thanksgiving foods and a really tasty recipe for pecan pie bars. And don't worry-- we'll also have a new Twirl for all you romance lovers!

The Day After Thanksgiving

Welcome to Thanksgiving Week at the Pond!

We're kicking off our ode to all things turkey with a flash from the past and the first of my grateful tributes. On the first day of Thanksgiving week, I have to say I'm thankful for a certain someone.



Ben has been putting up with me for nearly six years, and he has still maintained his sense of humor. As much as you, my darling Invisible Friends adore me, I'm not as easy to live with in real life. Peanut butter and dancing obsessions are only funny in theory. Or for at least three days. After that, you'd probably clutch your hair, pluck out your eyeballs and scream, "Please get this dancing creature dripping with pink and sprinkles and smelling of peanut butter and apple pie out of my house! All she does is talk about food and goofy stories! All I want to do is have a conversation that doesn't revolve around food, puppies or publishing!"

And poor Ben sits there day after day, feeding me waffles and bbq and listening to me babble until his eyes glaze over. He's tolerated the Babies destroying the carpet with their nuclear peeing habits and still dances with me wearing a smile.

He's a true prince.

And because I like to talk about food, I'll also list a food every week that I'm eternally grateful for.


I've been craving these every hour. I bow down to whatever brilliant person created pancakes.


And as Paul Harvey would say....now for the rest of the story.
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When I was in college, I loved to write. However, I had shoved my creative writing on the back burner and pursued public relations because it was practical. I had no illusions that I would exit college, turn in a story to a publishing company and receive a large check, whirlwind tour and my own fan club.

Fine. I might have had some tiny secret illusions.

Anyway, I was resigned to writing press releases and profiles for the rest of my career. Then I met Dr. Carol Perry in PR writing. On the first day of class, she took my hand in hers and gave me a warm smile.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, pumping my hand. "I don't get many PR majors. I look forward to seeing your work."

She had me in the palm of her hand.

Dr. Perry did more than just teach me how to write a press release. She taught me it was ok to write my little stories and line by line, pulled me out of my shell. She challenged me, worked with me and was the first one to coax all the little stories I write now out of me. She was the first one to reveal my niche and style to me, and one of my first major supporters.

I owe this blog to her.

Even though I've never been able to reach Dr. Perry, I hope she knows what she meant to me. Because in her class, I felt like my words were gold. I was challenged and I pushed myself. I wanted every word to be perfect, every line to be brilliant.

And until you, my dear Invisible Friends, I hadn't felt this way in years. I was beaten down by the piles of rejection letters, torn by the sharp critiques of my work. I'd been called juvenile, plotless, one-sided, dark (yes, dark) and aimless. Everything felt wrong, and everything was wrong.

When I quit worrying about what the publishers and agents thought and started to write what I wanted, that's when I met all of you. When I quit worrying about word count and coming up with brilliant ideas and forcing out stories in a standard medium, you began to read. And when I quit trying to write books and just wrote, you asked for more.

So I owe this to you as well.

Dr. Perry, I want to thank you for what you've given me. And Invisible Friends, I want to thank you for reading.

It all started with this Thanksgiving assignment in the fall of 2005, when I stood up in front of the class and read this until tears formed in Dr. Perry's eyes. I still remember the hug she gave me in front of my bewildered classmates. At that moment, I felt like a real writer.

Thank you.

“The Day after Thanksgiving”

It was the day after Thanksgiving,
and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse.

My father was sitting in his big leather chair,
hoping that my mother would let him stay there.
All the turkey had been eaten,
all the relatives had gone,
and now it seemed like no one could smile, just groan.

I was six years old with nothing to do,
with no cousins to entertain me,
not even a friend or two.

I walked up to my Dad who was glued to a football game,
and asked him, "Daddy, what can I do today that's not lame?"
My dad said, "Go play outside," without ever taking his eyes off the TV.
"I'm much too busy watching football, as you can plainly see."

So I bundled up and put my dog on a leash,
and Princess and I set off down the street.
We passed a few houses and I was happy to see,
old Mr. Ritter was sitting on his porch as his son hauled in a Christmas tree.

I scurried up the sidewalk with Princess by my side,
and said "Hey Mr. Ritter whatcha doing? Isn't it kinda cold outside?"
Mr. Ritter just smiled and said to me, "I'm happy watching my son and grandkids buy and decorate a Christmas tree.
I'm grateful for my family and that I get to spend one more Christmas with them,
before I head up to heaven."

"Are all people grateful on Thanksgiving?" I asked curiously,
and old Mr. Ritter said, "Well if they aren't they should be!"

So I waved good bye to old Mr. Ritter and skipped down the sidewalk to visit my old babysitter. "Hey Leah," I said to her when she opened the door.
"What is it that you’re grateful for?"

Leah looked shocked and said to me, "I'm grateful for my friends and my boyfriend Ben.
He cheered me up when I was blue, and my friends are coming to get me to go to the zoo.
Love and friendship are very important to me,
and I'm grateful I have both in my life, don’t you see."

Just then a car filled with teenagers pulled up to the curb,
and the blaring music had the neighbors looking disturbed.
Before old Mr. Wayne could yell "Turn that down ruffians!";
I waved and skipped down the street as the old man started fussin'.

A few houses down and what to my curious eyes should appear?
The Smiths loading up a moving van, and not even shedding a tear!
"Mr. Smith," I asked him curiously, "What are you grateful for? And why are you moving? Is it because of me?"

Mr. Smith smiled and shook his head,
"Child, it's nothing you've done or said.
We were evicted from our house, so we must find somewhere else to live instead.
I'm grateful we have some money, and plenty to eat,
but I will miss living on this street.
I'm grateful I have my wonderful wife, so I know we'll be ok in life."

"You can live in my tree house," I offered.
"There’s lots of room when you live high in the trees..."
Mr. Smith laughed and said, "I don't know if I'd quite fit. But it's quite a nice offer, and I'll think about it."

I said, "I understand, and I'll miss you as well. I hope you find a home that's for sale."

I waved goodbye and skipped down the block until I ran into my dad, who didn't look happy but rather looked mad.
I skipped right up to his glaring eyes, and when I said, " Dad, what are you grateful for?"
I really took him by surprise!
He said, "I'm grateful for you and your mother, and for my parents and brother. I'm grateful I have a job and a home, and I'm grateful I'm not alone.
I'm grateful for my friends and I'm grateful for my wife. If you break it down, I've got a great life. And you're the best part of all!" he said as he swung me over his head. "No one else could have had such a great kid!"

"So you're not mad I went on a walk?" I asked when he put me down. My dad just laughed and said, "I was mad but I guess you turned me around."



Stay tuned Invisible Friends! Tomorrow Queen Bitty announces what she's grateful for. We also have a new Kitchen Magic and a monster Thanksgiving ode to food and how the Blond Duck really loves thee. Stay tuned!