It's just past midnight the night before Thanksgiving.
Outside in the cold rain sits my trusty Fast Eddie smoker running at 230 degrees Fahrenheit. It's filled to the brim with three fifteen pound turkeys, four racks of ribs, a pork shoulder for Kalua Pig, and a twenty pound beef brisket. All being slowly smoked to perfection for Thanksgiving feasts around Baltimore and New Jersey.
In the refrigerator is a honey baked ham and in the oven bakes both a pumpkin and sweet potato pie. My house is packed with food being prepped and cooked for tomorrows feast.
But there isn't a damn thing in this house that I can eat now.
And I'm bloody starving...