I've cooked Thanksgiving dinners for 40 years, give or take a few. I've prepared a six course sit-down for fifteen complete with silver, linen, champagne, and oysters; a traditional turkey/dressing/gravy for 500 in 1984 at the LAOOC (Los Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee) International Cafe, countless take-out turkeys for Gelson's in Los Angeles; an three-adult/one-course/turkey only picnic eaten without utensils at the kitchen counter, and many family-style events. I've always thought that Thanksgiving dinner offered few stressful challenges and little drama. Put in the bird, sauté the vegetables for the dressing, toss it all together, mash the potatoes, make the gravy and voilà! it's done.

This year we drove to Bainbridge Island to turkey with Bob's brother Tom and his family. We were responsible for dressing, mashed potatoes, and gravy—no issues there, Tom would provide the turkey, ham, vegetables and dessert. But wait, how do you make gravy with no turkey? We bought a small turkey for the gravy, roasted it in a Calphalon pot, in at 1:00 out at 3:30, resting on the cutting board until 4:30. Expecting the usual amount of brown juice and rich turkey fat, I found instead a few cups of slightly gray bird juice and little fat. By the time I'd whisked, stirred, and scraped, the gravy was even grayer and not particularly tasty. The dressing was dry and tough, ditto on the turkey.

It took every bit as much time and effort to produce a meal that ranked below the Mendoza line in quality. Could I blame the turkey—too small, the roasting pan—too aluminumy, the oven—unpredictable? Could it be me? I felt defeated and disappointed. Have I lost my chops, did the recent surgery diminish my cooking skills, has that time come when it's just too much?? I have a new empathy for those who don't cook well—do people still like you if your cooking doesn't knock their socks off? We've eaten well for so many years that we don't know what it's like to sit down to mediocre food.

Today I'm making turkey soup, surely I can bounce back. I won't include the recipe, who knows what's going to happen.