My sister is like the poor woman's Martha Stewart, except that every time you set a holiday table with unpressed linens, Martha pays a coolie to kill a Chow Chow.
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We were going to be hosting Thanksgiving at our place this year, and believe me when I say that it would have been a Smackdown of epic proportions that would have taken weeks - nay, months - to properly write up. But then, unbeknownst to us, more people were invited than our apartment can comfortably (or even uncomfortably) hold, and my brain started mis-firing again. Ergo, we are in North Carolina where there are chefs and chefs-in-training bustling about the kitchen and I don't have to do anything but take pictures and write and eat. And eat. And eat.
And I? ...