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Hello there Reader, Thanksgiving doesn't have to leave you cursing like a sailor. (Although, if you ever heard Mama Leite muttering in Portuguese while wrestling a 22-pound turkey into submission, you might think otherwise.) As someone who's hosted more holiday dinners than my youthful countenance would suggest―some of which ended with me hiding in the basement, clutching a bottle of wine, and questioning my life choices―I've learned a thing or two about keeping my sanity intact. The One will back me up on this, especially after That One Year We Shall Never Speak Of Again when I nearly burned down the house. But I digress. What I've learned is mastering Thanksgiving is all about strategy. And, unlike how I usually cook―which The One likens to a tornado in an apron―this requires that dreaded word: planning. Allow me to share with you my hard-won five-day plan that'll keep you from ending up in the fetal position behind the washing machine. (Not that I know anything about that.) My Free Foolproof Five-Day Countdown
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Would you like a Thanksgiving Prep LIVE? Please take a moment to check out the video. Lot's of good info! Hello Reader, Are you starting to panic about Thanksgiving? Of course you're not. Because you're NORMAL. I've been freaking out for two weeks. I've created a 5-day email series. Each email tells you what to do from the Saturday to Wednesday before Thanksgiving. You can get it by clicking below. You'll automatically be added to the series. (If you can handle the holiday without medication,...
Hi Reader, I have a weakness for Chinese takeout. A serious one.There's something about those little white cartons, the crinkle of the paper bag, and the glorious moment when you lift the lid and a cloud of ginger-and-garlic-scented steam hits you square in the face.And don't get me started on eating noodles straight from the carton while standing at the kitchen counter. I consider it one of life's great pleasures.But every time I make one of my favorite takeout dishes at home, I wonder why I...
Hi Reader, By Monday evening, I've usually made two promises to myself: I'll eat something sensible, and I won't spend an hour making it.These promises have a rather checkered history.I'll open the refrigerator, stare at its contents like I'm waiting for divine intervention, and consider ordering takeout. Then I'll spot a piece of fish and remember that dinner doesn't have to be a three-act production starring me, six dirty pans, and a sink full of regret.Fish is one of my favorite ways to...