I mean, maybe you come from a small family and your Thanksgiving dinner is for 4 or 6 people. That sounds lovely. It’s still a lot of cooking but I bet your one year-old at least weighs less than your bird. (Not to self: photo op!) 20 people or more is completely the norm at our family gatherings and we’re having 16 friends this weekend in our I-won’t-even-tell-you-the-square-footage apartment because you’ll either start clucking your tongue in a completely underserved pity party (woe is us, we live in Manhattan, said nobody you should be friends with, ever) or start sending us house listings in Montclair (coughgrandma). I’m looking at the yield on my usual recipes and then trying to multiply them by three and write a grocery list and it’s basically like: All The Butter Ever Made + A Gallon or Two Of Stock + then I burst into tears, text my husband the list and he schleps everything, in case you were ever wondering who the actual beauty/brains behind this operation actually is.

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