“It’s a Hannibal Lecter Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown!”

For my contribution to our annual glutton-fest known as “Thanksgiving Dinner” I was asked to bring two side dishes to my brother’s house. For one of them, I was commanded to make my signature yummy yams smothered in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar (I just say NO to marshmallows, people).As I explained in my last post, I planned on making sausage stuffed squash as my other dish.

As I also explained in aforementioned post, my father does not eat pork of any kind as it makes him feel like a cannibal due to the pig valve he has in his ticker. He hasn’t TOUCHED it in the three-plus years since he had quadruple bypass and valve replacement surgery.

So, I knew he wasn’t going to consume any of my squash or the sausage and cornbread stuffing. The white bread stuffing and other dishes were all pig free, so it isn’t like he was limited in his options.

People, the squash dish I made was freaking AMAZING.

Really, I think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever made and best of all? I created the recipe all by myself. (Ok, something similar probably exists somewhere but I certainly couldn’t find anything like it on the internet!)

I think I am going to make this many, MANY times in my life. I think it was my favorite thing at dinner, actually. Which is damn impressive because all the food RULED with deeeeeliciousness.

In a nutshell this is the recipe (ya know, because I am generous that way and like to share awesomeness with my readers)

Peel, core and cube one large butternut squash. Put cubes in 9×13 baking dish and set aside
Chop and saute 1 medium onion in olive oil in a large frying pan
Add 3 peeled and diced Granny Smith apples
Push apples and onions to the outer rim and brown 1 lb. country or italian sausage in the center
Stir in a scant 1/2 cup brown sugar
Stir in 1 tsp sage
Add salt and pepper to taste
Grate a dash of fresh nutmeg
Cayenne pepper to taste (you want a “kick”)
Pour in 1/2 to 1/3 can of beef stock
Add enough bread crumbs to create a stuffing
Add stuffing mixture to cubed squash and toss together in baking dish
Sprinkle breadcrumbs on top and dot with butter
Bake at 350 for 1 hour or until squash is tender

Sorry, I really don’t measure when I bake, I just eyeball and taste as I go, but seriously, this dish is freaking manna from heaven.

We had so many people and so much food, it took forever to get everyone plated and seated. I was last, well after a lot of people had already started chowing down and I WAS STARVING.

As I started shoveling food into my mouth in a manner that resembled Garfield eating lasagna, people started piping up about how much they liked my dishes. I said most of my replies with my mouth half full and my brain FULLY FOCUSED ON STUFFING MY FACE.

It went something like this:

Loralee shoves dinner rolls in her mouth.
“Whiner! The yams RULE!”
…nom, nom, nom, DINNER ROLLS! MMM! …“Thanks, brother!”…nom, nom, nom…

(Yes. My brother calls me “Whiner”. Shut up.)

Loralee stuffs huge forkfuls of sausage squash to chase down the rolls.
“They really are delicious, honey.”
…nom, nom, nom, SQUASH! MMM!…“Thanks, Mom!”…nom, nom, nom…

Loralee masticates a huge chunk of the moistest brine-roasted turkey breast ever consumed.
“Your squash casserole is just wonderful, Darlin’ Jill!”
…nom, nom, nom, TURKEY! MMM!…“Thanks, Dad!”…nom, nom, nom…

(Yes, my father calls me, “Darlin’ Jill. Sometimes I wonder why he didn’t just NAME me “Jill”. And to get it out of the way, my sister, Linny calls me “Pee”. Shut up.)

It went on this way for about 10 more minutes.

Once my inner-starvation was sated, my brain vaguely started functioning again and the wheels started turning amongst all the food.

nom, nom, nom, turkey…nom. nom. nom…..cranberry fluff…nom..nom.. nom.. stuffing…nom…nom….nom…mashed potatoes….nom…nom…nom…..nom……nom………..nom?????

Swallow.

LIGHT BULB SLOWLY GOES ON IN LORALEE’S FOOD-ADDLED HEAD.

“Um…Dad?”
“Yes, Jill?”
“A few minutes ago, did you say that my casserole tasted really good?”
“Yes! It’s wonderful!”

GULP.

“DAD!!!! THERE WAS PORK SAUSAGE IN MY CASSEROLE, REMEMBER????!!!!!!”

“Oh, NO!”

I was torn between laughing my ass off and feeling really horrible.

My brother just decided to laugh his ass off.

“Whiner! I can’t believe you said anything!! I’ve been sitting here about chewing my tongue off for the last 10 minutes because I wanted him to keep raving about it before lowering the hammer!”

Then the denial set in with my father vehemently stating that he only had a little bit and that “he was confident he didn’t get any of the pork in HIS serving.”

Then my brother told him that he was wrong and that he was a cannibal AND that now he had to go outside and dwell in a tent because he was unclean.

Then we all ate pie.

My family rules.