They're those holiday dishes you know return year after year. It's that dish that's at every holiday dinner, and you hate it. But grandma (or other relative) loves it, so it will be there. For me, it's that cranberry stuff in the can. Don't care if it has lumps in it or not, don't like it. Yet, at every family hiliday dinner, the solid mass of red giggly stuff will "sloip" out onto a plate, be sliced, and ceremoniously placed on the table. Mom loves it. Therefore, it's ensconced.
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