Monthly Archives: November 2013

Not Your Typical Thanksgiving Dinner

Pegg19I’m a pretty good cook. No, I’m not bragging, just being honest. Thanksgiving at our house is an annual satisfying affair. The pies look and taste like Betty Crocker made a house call, the meat both tender and savory, and the sides colorful as well as delicious.

Except that once.

Homegrown chicken replaces the traditional turkey at our house. That year’s bird was eight pounds of symmetrical perfection. I stuffed Mr. Chicken and nestled him in the roasting pan. I popped him into the oven and I turned my attention to the potatoes. The last chunk of potato hit the pot when the lights flickered for the first time. Then they flickered again. Then they died.

No power.

My husband brought out the Trivial Pursuit game and our family passed the next hour frustrating ourselves with questions about foreign makes of cars and Polish borders after WWII. I kept peeking at the clock and thinking about my uncooked chicken in the cooling oven. Then I had a lightbulb moment.  The kind you can only have when all the lights are out.

Confident in my culinary prowess – dare I say cocky? – I hauled Mr. Chicken from the dark depths of the stove and paraded him through the house. My husband and son followed me, in awe of my superwoman abilities. I whipped Mr. Chicken out of the roasting pan and onto the grate with a flourish before lighting the gas grill, setting it to low, and shutting the lid with a sigh. I had saved Thanksgiving dinner.

Or not.

We returned to the kitchen and our game secure in the knowledge that I had snatched victory from the hands of defeat. After fifteen minutes I checked the grill. . .only to find our own miniature towering inferno. Bread stuffing is highly flammable. Who knew? Flames licked around the entire bird, blackening the skin to the sizzle and pop of the fat underneath.


With the gas turned off, the flames smothered, and dire threats issued to any man who dared a laugh, I managed to scrape the pathetic foul back into the roasting pan. Thirty minutes later, two and half hours after it disappeared, the power winked back on. Mr. Chicken, looking much the worse for wear, was smuggled back into the oven.

Mr. Chicken did not grace the center of the table on the family heirloom platter that year. Instead, I peeled off his charcoal wrapping at the counter, out of sight of the table. I cut up the tender and surprisingly tasty meat underneath. Dinner was salvaged, my pride beaten into submission, and we have a holiday memory to retell for many years to come. Because my guys will never let me forget that one!

Pegg Thomas


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Posted by on November 27, 2013 in Humor, Pegg Thomas


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Remembering Russia

When someone says the word Russia, what comes to mind?

No amount of study or second-hand account could prepare me for what I discovered on my ten-day trip to St. Petersburg and Moscow. Expectations are my downfall, and have been since I was a kid, but the Russian people and culture didn’t disappoint. They surprised, amazed, and sometimes frustrated (more on that in a moment). My greatest joy is that I’ve developed some incredible friendships on my journey. My greatest fear is that I won’t ever return.

I went with a group of 115 choir members. In the mornings and afternoons, we offered a Bible study conference, a music workshop, concerts in the metros, renovated a rehabilitation center, installed windows for a new church plant, and ministered to scores of children at four orphanages. We provided tracks and discipleship materials, worked with missionaries at ESL gatherings, provided two keyboards for churches, a three-months’ supply of food for a homeless shelter, a copier for the church music institute in Moscow, donated several hundred Bibles for distribution, and gave subway passes to missionaries in both cities. In the evenings, our choir presented concerts each night, seven concerts in seven different churches.

Correct. We were exhausted. But what’s a little jet lag and sleep deprivation when compared to serving in the Name of Jesus Christ?

Back to my observations. Most surprising were the modern conveniences in the cities. St. Petersburg, a city of 5 million, is charming with its European flair, a collection of islands joined by bridges. I was amazed by the history of the Romanovs, stunned by the art treasures in the Hermitage, and delighted by the hearty borsht and fruit-filled blini. Moscow, a city of 15 million, is the business center of Russia. I was frustrated by the rush and isolation I perceived while walking down the streets. In contrast, I was warmed and encouraged by the love and humility demonstrated in the churches. We were blessed to labor together with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Not so different from where you live, right? God’s people are family, whether next door or around the world.

The most important thing I learned on my trip was that Christ breaks down the dividing wall between us. People are the same wherever we go. Whatever nation, tongue, or creed, we’re all in need of the Savior.

~ Jericha Kingston

Russian Salad:

This salad was served to us at every Russian meal. It was delicious, and had us asking for the recipe. I made it for lunch…and it was as wonderful as I remembered!

1 10 oz. bag shredded cabbage
1 pkg imitation crabmeat, chopped fine
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
4 boiled eggs, chopped fine
2 carrots, chopped fine
2 peeled, de-seeded cucumbers, chopped fine
Fresh dill, salt, pepper, and mayonnaise to taste

A food chopper works great for this recipe. Make sure all ingredients with excess liquids are drained well. Mix together in a large bowl. Will feed about 12.

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Posted by on November 12, 2013 in Jericha Kingston


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