Thanksgiving in our house wasn't Thanksgiving without a stupid amount of chestnuts that needed to be roasted and peeled for stuffing. It was actually fun in a punishing sort of way. We were the house that hosted all the Thanksgiving orphans and to be able to eat on Thanksgiving you had to come over the night before and help roast and peel. Much hilarity ensued as everyone became convinced that their technique was the one way to peel the difficult buggers.
By the time the actual meal came around I was so full from tasting stuffing and eating the crumbled chestnuts that facing that groaning table made me want to groan. So I had my own meal I created from the bigger meal around me.
Before we sat down to eat, while the adults were having a drink and cheese, I became obsessed with my aunt's bowlfuls of Spanish peanuts, raisins and chocolate chips that were set throughout the living room. Forget gorp or trail mix or even Chex mix. That combo was like eating the best cookie ever without the dough.
I have been an avid reader of 
It started simply enough: the other half felt the need to bake. For me, well, I’m no baker and the urge to do so is akin to washing my car or preparing receipts for tax purposes. I’ll do it but only begrudgingly. But like many things I’m fully prepared to participate in the end result, and in this case it was a pie of monstrous proportions.
It was an angela thing and it all started when she sent me a link along with a two word email that said “interesting, huh?”.
Stuffing is never my department. My mom has always made the stuffing (another one of my dad’s favorites) and she ALWAYS stuffs it in the bird.