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We're fast approaching one of my favorite holidays. No, not Halloween. I gave that up when I stopped getting candy. Or maybe it was when I got chased by a chainsaw-toting werewolf at Universal Studios' Halloween Horror Nights...

Regardless, Thanksgiving will be here in the blink of an eye, and I, for one, am eagerly awaiting that day, a day when I can partake in more than my fair share of poultry, Scotch, and football. The best thing about Thanksgiving? You don't have to buy anyone a gift. You just get to eat and drink without spending money on bad ties, new cell phones, or lingerie you can never get your wife to wear.

I have always been a fan of Thanksgiving, just as I've always been a fan of cigars, money, and making more money to buy more cigars. When I was married to Deb, we would always end up at her sister's house. Now don't get me wrong, her sister was a great cook, but toward the end, when Deb was always complaining that I never helped her out around the house, I decided it was my turn to start contributing. Deb's sister always made everything herself, from scratch. Everything from the mashed potatoes to the whipped cream. She didn't want anyone else in her kitchen. However, Deb twisted her arm, and her sister said she guessed it would be okay if I brought broccoli casserole, as long as I didn't need to get near her oven.

I know you must be thinking, Ted Earley, former CEO, making broccoli casserole? Fine. It's a bit of a lowbrow dish, I'll give you that. But the recipe was so easily accessible at my neighborhood grocery store, and the mushroom soup label made it sound both simple to make and delicious.

It was not simple. Nor was it delicious. In fact, it was so bad that Deb's relatives, who tried to be polite, even scared the dog away when they tried to pass off their helpings (in secret, of course) to him. That dog hates Thanksgiving now. I ruined a patriotic holiday for a perfectly good canine. And maybe my ex in-laws, but I'm less concerned about them.

After my return from semi-retirement, I vowed to never ruin another Thanksgiving. And how do you make sure you will never ruin another Thanksgiving? You learn to cook. Sure, there will be fights and bickering and tension and veiled insults, but if there's good food, nothing else matters.

So between now and Thanksgiving, I'll be posting some of my favorite recipes up here. If I can learn, you can, too. Let's start with the simplest (and my personal favorite category, besides Scotch... wait, is that a food group? No? Fine Appetizers.

This artichoke dip is the very first thing I learned to make. It's got cheese, it's got heavy cream, there's no way you can make it taste bad. And if you do, well, you're your own brand of special. Now, let's get cooking.


Earley Times No-Fail Artichoke Dip

Ingredients:

1-1/2 cans artichokes (NOT marinated, unless you want to ruin your cooking rep), chopped and drained
1 onion, diced
2 cups mozzarella cheese

Mix the artichokes, onions, and mozzarella cheese together. With your hands. It's equal parts soothing and disgusting. Pour into a greased baking dish (I use two nine-inch pie pans, or whatever you have that holds the mixture). This is your basis for the dip.

Now, moving on...

1 pint of whipping cream
2 egg whites
1 egg
3/4 tsp. salt
dash of pepper
dash of nutmeg

Whisk all these things together. If you don't have a whisk, go buy one. Now. When you're done buying/whisking, pour this mixture over the artichoke mixture from above. Sprinkle the whole thing with two handfuls of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Then, if you're like me, realize you've forgotten to preheat the oven.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Bake the dip for at least an hour, until it's browned on top. Serve with vegetables, crackers, or anything. That's right. Anything tastes good with this dip.

Enjoy.

You may have noticed that there's an election coming up. Don't worry - I'm not going to endorse anyone here. There are enough slanders and lies spread all across the Internet to help you make an informed decision. Sorry. Little political humor there.

Here's another one for you. Do you know the definition of a "gaffe?" It's when a politician slips up and accidentally tells the truth. Oh, wait. That one's not a joke. That definition's actually accurate. Disturbing...

Let's disregard for a moment all the back-stabbing, fear-mongering, and dumbing-down that politics entails. Let's concentrate on the greatest right the citizens of this country have: The right to vote. It's the most important thing you can do to participate in this democracy. Plus, at many polling places, they offer stickers and snacks. I haven't had a chance to research registering to vote in any other state, but for information on registering to vote in California, visit http://www.presidentialelection.com/register_to_vote/california.htm.

Remember, not everyone has the right to vote. Lose that right, and you start to realize how much it means. Not everyone gets to wear that optimistic red, white, and blue sticker. Some people will be stuck at home on election day, watching every channel cover a contest in which they had no say. It's no fun to feel helpless, and no fun to be reminded of what you've lost. So if you run into one of those people, save them a snack from your polling place. It will cheer them up.

And remember, if you can vote and don't, the gaffe's on you.

--Ted Earley

As some of you might know, I've spent some time in a place where seasons don't change. Where you can't mark the passing of time with rain or leaves or snow. Where every day is the same. I'm talking, of course, about California. But while the weather here doesn't clue you in to the season, you know what does? Professional football.

Did you know that there is a TV cable package where there's a game playing every hour, every day? It strikes me as entirely possible that a fan could sit down and turn that puppy on and never get up again. It's tempting, believe me. But I've spent a lot of time indoors, so for me, there's nothing like a real, live game. Seems to me that it's time Los Angeles got it together to bring back a team full time, don't you agree? If that happens, look for me in the stadium's crowded parking lot. I'll be one of a couple thousand guys throwing back a cold one and grilling burgers. A few years ago, I couldn't have imagined the freedom that comes with setting fires in a public place. Now I can only imagine it because this town, the second largest in the country, has deprived all of its loyal citizens of a football team. Where's the justice in that?

So yes, getting out to watch a game would be great but here's something I wonder about: how much time do you spend sitting around the house waiting for things to get done that allow you the "convenience" of sitting around the house? Here's what I mean -- just getting that game service installed? The cable guy was four hours late. Forget calling them to complain. There's just some phony voice menu -- and don't get me started on the voice, what's with the expressionless voice? I know what Crews would say -- don't get attached to your rage. But I'll be darned if...okay, wait, let's get back to the point here, this whole blogging thing gives you a lot of leeway...

Football: We can watch four games at once, they send you text alerts when your team is in the red zone, and they have whole games edited down to six minutes. And the receiver itself has a tap for ice cold beer. Okay, maybe I'm lying about that last part.

Every Sunday, before a game, I whip up a batch of my famous seven-layer dip. The key is using the freshest ingredients possible. That means whole avocados instead of guacamole, tomatoes instead of salsa. Otherwise, you'll end up with glop. Nobody wants to eat glop - there's enough of that when the football field gets muddy. I'm not kidding, though, food is important. There were times in my life when it seemed as if food only came in grades of beige. Tasted like that, too. But now -- have you really looked at an avocado lately? I recommend it. And then, just taste it: the sweetness and roundness of the flavor, contrasted with the bite of the salsa. I grew up thinking only girls cooked. Crazy, huh? Maybe it takes getting pulled away from the things that you take for granted to make you remember that each and every thing you eat, each and every thing you see, each and every thing you do has meaning.

And you know what I was saying back at the top about the seasons? How we live in a place with no seasons? That's not true. They're just not seasons like anybody else thinks about them. They come in big blocks: rainy season, dry season...I don't know...windy season, mud slide season...and blue, blue sky all the rest of the time, swimming weather, weather where you can feel the sun on your back (though do not, under any circumstances, skip that sunscreen)...I guess I got off the topic of football...

Ted Earley