Originally uploaded by chaesq.

Thanksgiving with the nuclear family rocked. As did the fact that we had no turkey on the table. Man, that made our lives SO much easier, and our mouths SO much less tired from chewing dry, tasteless, icky fowl. Why it took us almost thirty years to figure out that none of us enjoy turkey is utterly beyond me. However, lack of tryptophan made us no less sleepy after our Thanksgiving meal. We promptly washed the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, then changed into sweats to dive under big fluffy Korean blankets to watch hours and hours of bad television and doze. It was totally awesome, and everything I dreamed Thanksgiving with the family would be.

The cake, however, was another story. It looked like it should taste good; heck, it looked exactly like the magazine photo. But be ye warned: just because it looks like it should taste like heaven, doesn't mean that it does.

Exhibit A: note the perfect ring of drained and chilled mandarin oranges, formerly in light syrup. Note the meticulously removed pomegranate seeds (my lack of skill in removing them left all manner of trippy streaks all over my kitchen counters and cabinets, and yes, even my face). Note the perfect swirls of cream cheese-powdered sugar-orange zest frosting.