Thanksgiving Piselegance

Beer & Pretzel Cheeseball, originally uploaded by riptideredsf.

My mother had a name for fancy: piss-elegant, gin tonics were usually involved. A notch above the fancy was "bloody piss-elegant" channelling her inner Irish lass with one too many G&T's.
My sis and I cooked up a whole lotta piss-elegance this Thanksgiving with mom hovering close by. I believe we did her proud. The mimosas didn't hurt either.
The flurry of activity commenced Tuesday night in the Little Kitchen beginning with making applesauce for Spiced Applesauce Cake (from Smitten Kitchen), then onto a Chili and Sour Cream Cheddar Biscuits (SK again) care package which I planned to drop off to a friend Wednesday morning. Then I prepped the Mushroom Lasagne, containering up its elements: sauteed mushrooms, bechamel & grated parmesean to transport to the Little Sister Kitchen for its assembly & baking Wednesday evening.
The best and newest addition to the Little Kitchen arsenal came in the mail a few days before T-Day and I practically squealed with glee to find my introductory copy of Cooks Country magazine. I'd forgotten all about it.
The minute I saw the picture of the cheeseballs I knew at least one of these little beauties would be adorning the Thanksgiving table.  Wednesday morning before heading off to the Little Sister Kitchen, I made two of these babies. First up was an herb and goat cheese ball. I tossed it in the freezer to firm up while I prepared this beer & pretzel ball. But hmnnn no beer (I actually had some old pretzels that had not gone stale), so I run down to the corner market at 9am to buy a bottle of brew, which is right next door to the Hockey Haven, one of those neighborhood bars I call "Old Man Bars" where there were about 5 or 6 guys standing outside smoking and several others inside. I didn't feel so freaky about buying a bottle of beer at 9am.
The recipe only calls for 3 tablespoons so what do with the rest. I actually took a couple of sips and decided to save the rest for my ride who was coming to pick me up in 10 minutes. He never feels freaky about a 9am beer.