Thanksgiving in Stockholm

...Or should I title this one, "The Thanksgiving almost disaster that struck Stockholm"?

Last Thanksgiving, I flew to Germany to spend a relaxing, long weekend with my sister in law, Tiffany.  I was in charge of one thing, the sweet potatoes.  No problems there.  Andreas expressed desire about wanting a real thanksgiving, made by an American and having a big turkey, but his request was denied.

Well, this year, he got what we wanted.  A 5 kilo turkey, and 4 american girls (who had never made a full Thanksgiving meal before) cooking dinner.  Despite what good friends Kirsten and I have become, our host families and children had never met each other.  When I'm not with my own family, I am with hers, and when she is not with her own, she is with mine.  This was our chance to get the two families together, the ones who have greatly impacted both of our lives.  Haley, Kirsten's cousin was visiting from the US, as well as my friend, Kelsey. 

All of us four girls are similar in personality, a little OCD about things, we like to be on time, we are put together and organized, etc.  Friday night rolled around and we were feeling pretty good about the progress for Saturday night's dinner.  Cranberries were done, desserts were mostly baked, table was set, etc.  Saturday morning, Kelsey and I woke early to prepare the turkey, and bake one last cake.  Seeing as neither of us had ever cooked a turkey in our lives, we were googling, pinteresting, tweeting, and facebooking everything imaginable about how to clean and cook a turkey.  

Kelsey and I just about died when we originally picked up the turkey, and the neck comes shooting out the bottom into the sink.  If only that was our biggest problem.  Johanna and Andreas were both out of the house at this time doing some last minute errands with the children.  I put the cake in the oven, checked it, it was not done, so I put it back in for 5 more minutes.  5 more minutes.  5 more minutes.  Finally, I realized something was wrong.  Usually the oven blasts you with heat the second you open the oven door. Not happening.  Panic strikes.  

THE OVEN IS BROKEN.

PANIC.

Naturally, Kelsey and I freak out.  I call Andreas, he claims, "It's not possible for the oven to break". 

I call bull shit.

The clock is now noon, the time when the turkey has to be in the oven in order to get it done by the time the guests arrive.  

Plan B:  I ran across to the neighbors house to ask to use their oven.  The woman is American, so she had to understand.  The problem was, they were having Thanksgiving the same night and their turkey needed to be in the oven too! But luckily, they had a few hours to spare, so sure enough, I ran across the street with a raw turkey in my pajamas to the neighbors in order to put it in their oven until ours was fixed.

Lets just say, I knew what I was going to say I was thankful for at the dinner table that night. 

Andreas and Johanna were able to fix the oven as soon as they got home, and thanksgiving was saved! You think I sound dramatic?  No really, you try cooking thanksgiving dinner for 13 people.  The turkey cooked and turned out surprisingly well.  All adults admitted to having doubts about dinner, but were all pleasantly surprised.  

Here's what we have to show for ourselves: