Thanksgiving in Space

This morning, my wife insisted I taste her mashed turnips. She always makes a batch on Thanksgiving, in honor of her mom. So-- for fear of offending the dead-- I couldn't refuse to take a bite.

I told her that I found the turnips bland and mushy, two food characteristics that don't sit well with me. My wife was shocked. She thought they were tasty and delicious. But she also likes mashed potatoes, and I think that removing the skin and then smooshing a potato to mush (with some milk! yuck!) is sinful.

Mashed turnips taste and look the kind of food you'd eat if you were voyaging to Mars, to start a new colony. The kind of food they might give you a dollop of in the big house. The kind of food you'd eat if you'd broken free from The Matrix and were riding around on with the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar.

So apparently Catherine would fare better than me in space. And in jail. And as an American colonist in the 1600's. I'm thankful for many things, but Thanksgiving food isn't one of them.