My co-worker, Bob, really has no business being a manager of scientific affairs when he's such a good cook and could well open his own restaurant. He started us off with roasted vegetable soup, and graciously remembered to leave the cheese out of mine. I lost count of the number of casseroles brought to table, but they did include one with corn and wild rice, one with broccoli, and one with sweet potatoes, which was my favorite. The turkey breast was maple-roasted, and the drippings made for tasty and sweet gravy. Yours truly scrubbed and chopped potatoes, which Bob somehow found time to mash. A neighbor made greens, another brought a pumpkin cheesecake, and Jeff made a cheese ball, though it looked more like a cheese mound. And it was all washed down with a warm apple cider spiked with bourbon.
And did I mention dessert? Bob had made an apple pie with a lattice top as well as a pecan pie, though he was far more into the filling than the pecans, and he was making noises while eating it that are best left to the bedroom.
Conversation revolved around the banter between the couple with the lovely southern drawls, pharma drama, and a husband getting his green card. I couldn't really contribute to any of these conversations, but they were fun to listen to. Bob and Jeff had gone all out with decorating - glittery Christmas trees and snowmen abounded, which was in hilarious contrast to Bob and Jeff walking around in shorts and T-shirts, ceiling fans on at full blast, and windows thrown wide open. The rest of us politely shivered in our sweaters and jeans and downed as much warm cider as we could handle.
I will now have to work out twice as long for the rest of the week to work off all the food I ate, and of course, I was sent home with leftovers.
Word count is increasing slowly but surely. I think I will just barely make the 50k finish line on November 30.
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