|here comes trouble|
We spent ours with the Trout family, and I popped three pills just to make absolutely certain that I'd be able to handle all the gluten. Now I just wish there was something to help me with the sugar...
And now, gentle readers, gather close and I shall tell you a tale of Ham.
Earlier this week I asked Papa Trout what we might bring to the table, and he said, "Could you bring a ham or something?" and I said, "Done!" because I had literally just won a ham from a contest at work. Big ol' package sitting on my desk, proclaiming itself, "Honey Baked Ham!" Providence!
So this morning Nathan and I start to unbox the ham, because we want to heat and glaze it before we head out to the Trout Homestead. And as Nathan is unwrapping it, I say, "Huh, it sure is a little ham. And... kind of... flat..." and then Nathan takes off the last bit of covering, and...
It is a cheesecake.
It is 11AM on Thanksgiving, and the ham I have promised to bring for 20+ people is a cheesecake!
And that is how Nathan found himself running to WalMart (which was thankfully open) and buying literally the last ham in the entire store. He came back in brandishing it proudly and I said, "Well it's a good thing God likes the Trouts," to which he replied, "What about me?" and I said, "He likes you too, but he likes them better: they've had longer to curry favor," which apparently my husband takes issue with but whatever.
Anyway, I stuck cloves all over that ham and then popped it the oven. We took a look at the glaze that came with it and said, "Yeuch," so Nathan remedied the situation by making a superior glaze using honey, brown sugar, and stoutly-steeped pumpkin-spice tisane. It was phenomenal.
All this to say, we arrived 18 minutes late, but we arrived with a ham that was actually a ham, damn it. And people loved it. And the day was saved. By Nathan. Who is the best.