Hello! Happy (almost) Thanksgiving!
We're having a strange, though interesting Wednesday. Our apartment smells like chicken, and that's not bad. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we're (yours truly very proudly is. . .) making salpicão, which is a Brazilian type of cold chicken salad. It's a wonderful, magnificent (though, very simple!) dish I've never made before, but I've seen my mom preparing it many times. Our family is quite fond of it, and of her recipe in particular. Every Christmas, my family requests my mom to bring it to our dinner. Hopefully, my salpicão will turn out just as good as hers, because we'll be taking some to Michael's parents' house tomorrow.
Strangely, since I moved to the U.S. this is the first time I haven't seen snow on Thanksgiving. If I remember correctly, the two times I was invited to the Kozaks' house on Thanksgiving, Casey Kozak joked that I had brought snow with me. The corn fields would be entirely white. Deb Kozak would be afraid of driving. This year, though, there's no sign of it. I wonder what's up with the weather. . . Global warming, I suppose?
That's all I have to say for now. There's still cooking to do. And writing to work on later. With or without snow. . . happy Thanksgiving!