Ultimate Family Fight Apple Sausage Stuffing

Dear Reader,

Get out your boxing gloves, put on your cloak of indignation and get ready to hurl some insults and air some grievances.  Thanksgiving is coming!  Here's a delicious stuffing to serve to your ungrateful and insensitive family.  Enjoy!

Ultimate Family Fight Apple Sausage Stuffing

You will need:

Pencil

Paper

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 lb. sausage

2 celery stalks, chopped

1 onion, diced

2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and chopped

1 shallot, diced

1 Tbs. chopped parsley

2 tsp. fresh sage, minced

1 bay leaf

1 lb. loaf French bread

1 cup milk

1 cup chicken broth

3 Tbs. butter, melted

3 eggs, beaten

1 cup cooked chestnuts

Escape plan

The day before Thanksgiving, make a list of guests who will be dining with you.  Included should be the usual unpleasant cast of characters, but their spouses and children as well.  Leave plenty of room between each name to write down the myriad ways they have belittled, embarrassed and taken advantage of you over the past year.

Heat oil in a large skillet and brown sausage.  Transfer sausage to another plate and consider asking for a transfer at work so that next year you can have a nice holiday spent either alone or with friends rather than family.  Note how sausage smells exactly like your cousin Jared, and plan to sit at other end of table from him this year.  Add celery, onions, apples, shallots and herbs to pan and cook until vegetables soften like the jowls on your manic depressive sister who totally denied putting a huge dent in the side of your car even though she was the only one driving it because your other sister was, once again, too drunk and needed a safe ride home, and neither of them have a job and so can't afford a car of their own.  Add sausage to vegetables.

Remembering the fistfight that broke out between your father and your brother at your high school graduation, tear bread into cubes with your bare hands and your anger.  Throw it in with the sausage like your mom threw out all of your old yearbooks and everything else that ever mattered to you in the whole world when she selfishly moved into that condo.  Crumble in the chestnuts, recalling that in the sixth grade your brother used to refer to your burgeoning breasts as "chestnuts" in front of the whole school bus.

Heat milk, butter and broth in a pot and pour over stuffing.  Crack eggs like you would the skulls of your idiot cousins who prank call you at work every day and mix it into the stuffing.  Season with salt and pepper.

Smear butter all over a large baking dish, the way your drunken sister apparently did with your Marc Jacobs pants she borrowed when she said she was going on a job interview but really was just going out with the guy who sells cell phones at the kiosk in the mall.  The guy that you saw first.

Throw everything in the pan and cook at 350 degrees for about 50 minutes or until golden brown.  Remove from oven and realize that the best part of Thanksgiving is the stuffing. The ultimate revenge would be to not bring it to dinner and eat it all yourself.  Turn off phone, lights and oven.  Enjoy stuffing with peace and quiet.