Okay … today’s the big day. Considering you're on the Food Network.com website, it appears that you've been doing a little research to get ready for your Thanksgiving feast. Hopefully your meal will go off without a hitch, but if you run into any last minute glitches, we offer the following suggestions:
1. Check out our Thanksgiving package — the answer to most of your questions is very likely to be in it, and if it's not, please let us know! We'll make sure it's covered next year
2. Check out Food Network Kitchens’ most frequently asked questions with answers listed below
3. And if all else fails, visit our sister-site RecipeZaar.com for around-the-clock community support to help you prepare a delicious Thanksgiving meal
Frequently Asked Thanksgiving Questions
How much turkey do I need to buy? How long do I thaw it for?
1 pound of turkey per person is a good rule of thumb; if you’re especially fond of leftovers, up it to 1 1/2 - 2 pounds per person.
If you’re hosting a big group, think about getting two smaller turkeys (if your oven is big enough to roast them at once) instead of one larger one; they’ll cook up much juicier than a giant one will.
Fresh has better flavor, but frozen is more readily available. If you’re going fresh, buy it two days in advance at the most. If frozen, thaw your turkey in the fridge its wrapper, on a tray to catch any juices (a disposable roasting pan is ideal for this), about five hours per pound. If it’s getting close to dinnertime and it’s still rock-solid, put it in a large bucket of cold water in the fridge, changing the water every half hour, for 30 minutes per pound.
Why would I brine my turkey and how do I do it?
Brining makes for a moister, more flavorful turkey, it’s not mandatory, but here’s how.
Brining turkey changes the cell structure, making it more moist (and often, more flavorful). The basic formula for a brine is 1 to 1 1/2 cups kosher salt for every gallon of liquid (whether water, juice, stock or beer). You can also add sugar, if you’d like, and any seasonings you want — try herbs, garlic or peppercorns. Brining pushes the flavor of these seasonings into the meat. So, unlike marinating, which flavors the outside, brining gives you deeper flavor and increased moisture.
The larger the meat, the longer it should brine; while shrimp only need about half an hour, a whole turkey takes about 10 hours or so. Add ice to the brine to keep it under 40 degrees F in case you don’t have fridge room.
Once you’re done brining, remove the meat from the brine, pat it dry, and cook the same way as you would otherwise.
Do I have to baste it?
Basting is a double-edged sword; while it will make the skin crispier, you lose quite a bit of heat each time you open the oven door. The best solution is to rub your bird with oil or butter before putting it in, and then to leave it alone as much as possible as it roasts. For perfect skin and a thoroughly cooked bird, place a sheet of foil loosely over the breast initially, and remove it for the last half hour of roasting.
Do I stuff it or not?
As delicious as stuffing straight from the turkey is, stuffing it prior to cooking is often more trouble than it’s worth, as it slows down the cooking time, leading to a potentially dry bird. For foolproof stuffing, your best option is to cook it in a baking dish alongside your turkey, at which point its name changes to dressing.
How do I know when it’s done?
Use an instant-read (not a pop-up) thermometer to make sure the temperature at the thigh is at least 165 degrees F. An instant read thermometer poked into the stuffing should read 165 degrees F too. [FYI — USDA changed this last year from 180 to 165]
If you don’t have a thermometer, try to wiggle the drumstick. The looser it feels, the more done the turkey is. Also, check the roasting pan — the juices from the turkey should run clear, not pinkish.
My gravy is lumpy — what do I do?
The quick fix here is simply to strain your gravy through a fine-mesh strainer into your serving boat — but to avoid having lumpy gravy in the future, add your hot broth slowly to the flour mixture, whisking constantly and thoroughly.
My gravy is flavorless — what do I do?
Add a splash of Madeira or sherry to brighten up your gravy, or puree some of the vegetables from your roasting pan into the gravy to add sweet, rich flavor and a fuller mouthfeel. Next time, consider using homemade or store-bought turkey stock to amp up the flavor, or adding more vegetables to the roasting pan to flavor the pan drippings.
What is the best way to carve a turkey?
In our opinion, a video is worth a thousand words — check out Alton’s carving video under the video or turkey tab in our Thanksgiving package. By the way, this video makes me laugh every time I watch it.
One year I was stranded in New York for Thanksgiving. Tending a broken heart and overwhelmed by studying for college exams, I realized my holiday was turning into a pity party — attendance of one. I knew I had to do something; it was, after all, Thanksgiving. I couldn’t just sit around and eat another pint of Chubby Hubby and watch my umpteenth Golden Girlsrerun.
That’s when I remembered Covenant House, a place for homeless youth, was a block away from my apartment. Knowing shelters usually host some kind of volunteer-driven meal on the holidays, I marched over to offer my services for whatever they had going on that day. Of course, my name wasn’t on the volunteer list, but the person at the front desk took pity on me (and probably my overdramatic “I’m stranded!”) and signed me in anyway. Joining 10 other volunteers, young and old and from all walks of life, I helped set up the cafeteria-style tables and decorate them for the big feast with colorful paper turkey centerpieces. Later, I served some legendary sweet potatoes. The place was full of life, ranging from young moms corralling their excited little ones to teenage boys trying to play it cool but not quite masking a different story behind their eyes. Every person I served was so grateful. Warm-hearted thank-yous came by the dozens.
That Thanksgiving made me realize something: sometimes I get too easily caught up in my life, minor problems and just stuff that takes me away from truly appreciating all that I have. Being stuck in the city and volunteering actually became the best holiday gift — and the best Thanksgiving — I’ve ever had. Years have passed and I’ve celebrated many more Thanksgivings, but that day at Covenant House is always on my mind. This year I’ve been looking into other ways to put the “giving” back into Thanksgiving.
Here are some ideas, big and small, that I’ve found:
Volunteer — Call up your local soup kitchen, women’s or homeless shelters, half-way house or other group that assists underprivileged people to see if they’re serving a meal or hosting any activities. Tasks may range from setting up and serving, helping cook or just keeping the diners company. Or use that extra vacation time to walk dogs at an animal shelter, clean up a local park or join in any other community project. Sites like Volunteermatch.org will help you find great year-round opportunities in your area.
Celebrate with someone in need — Visit a nearby nursing home, retirement community or local hospital and hang out with residents who may not have anyone to spend time with this holiday. Share your Thanksgiving memories and ask about their own, play games or even bring a special treat from your kitchen, if allowed.
Shop for others — While you’re picking up ingredients for your feast, snag some extra canned foods, dry goods or another frozen turkey to donate to your local food pantry to help feed the hungry. Make it a habit every time you shop (look for all those special two-for-one deals or cash in on extra coupons) and keep up the giving year-round. After all, hunger doesn’t just end after the holidays.
Host a toy drive — Turn your holiday dinner into a toy and clothing collection. If you’re hosting, ask your guests to bring a new and unwrapped toy or piece of clothing as admission to your party. Donate them to a local gift collection drive — like Toys for Tots — in honor of your family’s gathering and kick off the gift-giving season right.
Open up your dinner table — Look around for a friend, coworker or neighbor who has nowhere to go this Thanksgiving and invite them to your meal. It’s a simple gesture that might make a world of difference to them.
Give special party favors — Skip splurging on that extra-expensive wine or new table setting and opt to buy your guests special thank you gifts that keep on giving. Sites like World Vision and Heifer International let you donate small amounts of money in honor of others that help buy livestock or assist struggling farmers, small businesses and needy women and children from around the world.
Remember the Earth — Focus on buying organic ingredients and free-trade products to set a personal example. Don’t waste food (send guests home with goodie bags!), collect and recycle product packaging, avoid paper napkins and ditch the plastic bags and switch to linen sacks when you do your grocery shopping.
Donate blood — Make it your annual – or bi-annual – activity to use your extra holiday vacation time to go to your local blood bank and donate. It’s a gift that’s literally from the heart!
I have many wonderful memories of my Grammy Helen. Grammy was a schoolteacher from old Irish stock who hated cats, skillfully forgot her wallet when it was her turn to pay and made some of the meanest desserts you’ve ever tasted. Her date bars were legendary, lemon bars sublime and peanut butter cookies downright crave-worthy. But, her signature dessert was pumpkin pie. Sinful as it was, it was always the perfect end to a great Thanksgiving meal.
Grammy could rattle off the recipe from the top of her head. Either my sister or I would call her on the phone for help. When reached, she would ask in her schoolteacher voice, “Do you have your pencil ready? ” and would dictate the recipe to us. Every year we lost the recipe — filed somewhere the year before that seemed to make sense but now impossible to find — and she would patiently repeat the recipe over and over again.
When Grammy Helen died in 1994, my sister Susan took on the role of the family recipe keeper. With our own families, we are often apart on Thanksgiving but we both still serve Grammy Helen’s pumpkin pie. I have copies of the recipe stashed throughout my apartment and on my computer, but I still call Susan every year for the recipe. By now, it’s a Thanksgiving tradition.
Do you have special dishes that it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without?
Grammy Helen’s Pumpkin Pie
1 can pumpkin
1 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 large eggs
1/2 cup heavy cream (but Grammy always said to add more cream than milk)
1/2 cup milk
Splash or two of brandy (her secret ingredient)
Prebaked and cooled 9-inch pie crust (we lost her crust recipe so we either use a generic recipe or my sister goes the semi-homemade route and uses a frozen shell)
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
Combine first five ingredients in a mixing bowl. In another bowl, lightly beat the eggs and whisk in the cream and milk. Add the egg mixture to the pumpkin mixture and stir until combined. Stir in the brandy.
Pour the filling into the prebaked crust. Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, then lower to 350 degrees and bake an additional 25 minutes, or until the center is set.
I have had plenty of culinary mishaps over the years, but I’ve always been of the school “If your soufflé drops, serve mousse”. In other words, never confess and spin your potential embarrassment into a source of compliments. This technique, unfortunately, doesn’t usually work with Thanksgiving. All the traditional foods are too recognizable, and if the family dog eats the turkey, you can’t exactly serve hash.
In the grand scheme of Thanksgiving Day disasters, I’ve led a relatively charmed life. The couple of minor stumbles I’ve suffered are the following:
· When I was in my first post-college apartment, my roommate came home tipsy on Thanksgiving eve and proceeded to pick at the baked crust surrounding my gorgeous pumpkin pie that I left on the counter to cool. The next morning, I discovered my pie completely denuded of a crust, looking forlorn, pathetic and strangely otherworldly. Sadly, this was my sole contribution to a lunch I had been invited to.
· The other mishap occurred years later when I used a recipe from a book we had written that hadn’t had its final copyedit. It was for a brined and smoked turkey. I followed the recipe to a tee, brined it overnight in a cooler, spent my afternoon adding aromatic chips every 1/2 hour to the grill, but the final result was free-range, all-natural, $46 shoe leather. I was embarrassed to serve it (this was one time my husband was really grateful to be a vegetarian), but my guests tried to cheer me up by saying it really was quite excellent if you just think of it as Turkey Jerky. I knew we had made it several times in the test kitchen and it was always delicious. I finally figured out that when the recipe was written up the wrong brine ingredients were inserted, and the especially potent brine I used was developed for a 20-minute shrimp soak, not a 12-hour turkey bath.
So, as I mentioned before, nothing too calamitous … not like the year my Grandmother’s huge English Mastiff ate the entire Christmas crown roast — but that's another blog.
Full disclosure: I’ve never cooked our family’s entire Thanksgiving dinner. Sure, I’ve brought cheese and crackers, pumpkin bread or even a basic green bean casserole to holidays passed, but I’ve never been tasked with doing much more than that.
But as my aunt recently warned, my time is coming. Claiming I need more in-the-kitchen apprenticeship, I’ve begged out this year, but next year I’m up. Always a pre-planner, I’ve started quizzing my fellow chefs on kitchen cheats and already learned a few great tips to make things easier. Maybe some of these ideas will help you — especially in any last-minute emergencies.
A pie’s a pie, any way you slice it: Pick up a traditional apple or pumpkin pie by from your local bakery or grocer’s deli. Typically made the day of or day before, these pies are often just as fresh and delicious as any standard you might knock out in the kitchen. The supermarket may have a limited selection, but a gourmet bakery might whip up something you never dreamed of. Next year, I plan to order early and buy several to meet my guests’ varied tastes. But if you insist on making your own, save time by using a frozen pie crust and concentrate on crafting a sumptuous filling.
Let someone else cook the turkey: The turkey is most people’s pièce de résistance, but if you’re like me (a vegetarian and cooking neophyte), you might want to leave the toughest part to pros and focus on making fantastic sides. Many supermarkets offer pre-cooked turkeys, in varying sizes. Or cheat the whole thing and buy a full pre-cooked turkey (or ham, if you want to add variety) dinner with pre-made sides from mail-order sites like www.honeybakedham.com.
A few pre-cooked sides won’t hurt: Many grocery stores also sell pre-cooked sides — mashed potatoes, cole slaw, cooked vegetables, salad mixes, etc — in their deli or hot foods sections. Just get them the day of — or the day before — and reheat for dinner.
Get creative with prepackaged additions: Buy packaged dinner rolls or frozen dough and mix in your own special inclusions: grated Parmesan, dried herbs, garlic or even nuts. Or pick up a boxed cornbread mix. Add a prepackage herb and spice blend to your favorite mashies to give them a quick-and-easy flavor boost. An herb mix can be used with fresh or frozen veggies, too. And most gourmands scoff at canned cranberry sauce, but we Brabsons love them. A curious youngster, I remember asking my grandmother how she got those fancy ridged ripples on the jelly. She just laughed and said, “It’s the can’s shape, sweetie.”
Try easier recipes: While I’ll sing canned cranberry’s praises, under no circumstance are powdered mash potato mixes entering my kitchen. To avoid the whipping and mashing, try a simple roasted potato recipe such as Tyler Florence’s Crunchy Roast Potatoes
So what other ideas do you have? I’m desperate for tips from those who’ve faced the heat already.
I recently moved into my first grown-up-real-life-have-a-job-no-more-posters-on-the-wall-apartment. As soon as I finished unloading the boxes, my friends were ringing the buzzer to come hang out, but whether it was to see me or eat my food is up for debate! Now that most of my friends are living on their own, it’s important to maintain some traditions that we had when we lived with our families — starting with a good meal! I want to invite them all over for a real Thanksgiving dinner, but it can be tough to cook and serve a huge meal in tiny quarters.
So, to prepare for the big Turkey Day, I’ve had a few trial dinner parties (some successful, more disastrous) and am learning what it takes to entertain in my small space. This is what I’ve come up with so far:
· First off, get a clear count of how many people you are expecting and buy groceries accordingly — you don’t want your kitchen to be overflowing with too much food or supplies.
· Prepare whatever you can in advance. That way, you can have multiple dishes without crowding your stove top or oven. Dishes that can be served cold or at room temperature are ideal.
· Make mini versions of some of the bigger items; try individual stuffing servings in muffin tins or turkey breasts instead of the whole bird — that way your oven and your stomachs won’t be overstuffed.
· Keep you dining table clear (if you even have one) by setting up buffets in the kitchen or even windowsills.
· If you have too many guests to fit around the table comfortably, throw some pillows on the floor and encourage your guests to grab a seat anywhere.
Relax and enjoy yourself, and your guests will feel at ease. Besides, it won’t be long until they fall asleep from all that tryptophan anyway! With a couple of tricks anyone can make it work; I’m proof that you don’t need a lot of space to have a lot of fun. The most important thing to remember is that the party is for you too, so enjoy yourself!
Any other advice from apartment dwellers out there?
Leftovers always get a bad rap. Let’s be honest here … who really likes eating the same meal the day after you’ve just had it? Boring. The meal usually doesn’t taste as good the second day around, with turkey and its accompanying sides succumbing to such things as dryness (yum!). The only exception would be pizza, but if you just had pizza for Thanksgiving dinner you’ve got way more problems than this blog post can remedy.
So how, my noble food devourer, can we make leftovers delicious, refreshing and, dare I say it, fun? Here are some meal ideas to help you through the next couple of days of redundant poultry feasting.
When the poor turkey is carved on Thanksgiving Day, don’t throw out that carcass! Unless you’re an expert at pruning backyard bushes for a living, there should still be plenty of meat left on those bones. Instead of frivolously throwing it away, simmer the carcass in a slow-cooker. The excess meat will fall right off it. Add some veggies and broth and you have a great turkey soup to get you through some chilly November nights.
Now that we’ve taken care of the bones, let’s tackle the enormous mountain of leftover meat you’ve gathered. One of my personal favorite leftover meals is a simple turkey sandwich. Take some bread, white meat turkey, some stuffing and cranberry sauce. The cranberry does a nice job of taking care of the dry white meat while adding a sweet and simple dressing to your sandwich. It’s simple, but it gets the hunger job done nicely.
I come from an Italian family, so we always have some pasta on hand at the dinner table. If you take some shredded turkey pieces and combine it with that pasta, you’ll have a delicious lunch or dinner, which can easily be served cold or hot. It deviates from the typical recycled turkey meal and helps to stem the number of “Oh great, more turkey!” looks from your kids.
Turkey can basically be substituted for almost any recipes that normally call for chicken, so get creative with your leftover recipes! Just because you are still left eating the same food three consecutive days after Thanksgiving doesn’t mean it has to taste like the same meal every time. For more ideas, check out recipes for leftovers in our Thanksgiving package, or settle in for Food Network's all dayThanksgiving Leftovers Marathon on Friday, November 23.
What are some of your favorite uses for Thanksgiving leftovers?
Tom Censani
Associate Web Designer
Food Network.com
“Why you want Turkey? It takes too long. Too much trouble”, said my dad in his Taiwanese accent. Every year, in his effort to submerge us into American-Asian culture, my dad made Thanksgiving dinner with both American and traditional Asian foods. But … it was this one year — our stomachs dropped at the thought — that there may not be turkey at the Thanksgiving table.
Mind you, I’m 30 years old, my sister is 35 and my cousins are only a few years younger than me, but we are still considered the kids and we don’t really plan on relinquishing those roles. But, since my dad was not willing to cook the turkey, or any other American dish, it was time we step up and take over making the American portion of the Traditional Huang Thanksgiving Dinner.
So, how did I handle my first foray into the world of turkey cuisine? I have to admit it — I am a huge fan of the Food Network and especially of Alton Brown. I made the Good Eats Roast Turkey from our site. I brined the turkey the night before. The next day, I started early, knowing my dad would take over the kitchen to start on his wonderful Asian dishes. Every half hour I nervously checked on the turkey — my dad would just shake his head and giggle a little. It’s always a good time cooking with my dad, even if he makes fun of me most of the time.
When the turkey was finally done, I let it rest for 30 minutes. I then carved into it and it was the best turkey I have ever had. This is what accompanied it:
· Mashed potatoes
· Green beans
· Potato salad
· Pumpkin pie and apple pie (courtesy Mrs. Smith’s. We didn't want to chance making one from scratch — the turkey was stressful enough!)
· Asian chicken soup with Chinese turnips (courtesy of my dad)
· Tong-yen soup (doughy sweet rice balls with Chinese chives in a chicken broth, made by all of us)
· Beef tendon noodle soup (my dad’s specialty and a huge favorite)
· Chinese broccoli (again, my dad’s)
· My grandma’s amazing lo mi fan (sticky rice with pork, veggies and bamboo shoots)
· Sautéed shrimp
· Bamboo shoots with pork
It was an incredible meal. This year, I’m going to my partner’s family’s house on Thanksgiving Eve for a traditional full on, with appetizers and everything. Then we'll both go to my family’s house for an American-Asian Huang Thanksgiving dinner. Talk about multi-cultural!
What kind of Multi-cultural dinners have you had? What did you make? Tell us all your fun experiences, good and bad. I’d love to hear them!
I come to Thanksgiving dinner like most people do: with an empty belly. So last year, imagine my surprise when I toted my homemade pumpkin bread to a potluck that, oddly, seemed to be food-less. My delicious dessert sat sadly by itself on a long buffet table. There may have been a bowl of lumpy cranberry sauce and a wilted green salad too, but not nearly enough sustenance to nourish hungry partygoers. I turned to the host and gushed, “I’m so excited to dig in,” by which I really meant, “Where is the food, dude?” His response: “Well, I just told everyone to bring whatever, which, I guess, is wine.” The rest of the evening is a bit blurry, it has been a year after all, but lesson learned: if you’re hosting a holiday soiree, maybe it’s best to assign guests a dish, or at least a genre of dish. If you’re an attendee, go ahead and ask the host for some guidance.
Indeed, whether you’re the host or an attendee, the most important thing you can do in advance of a potluck is find out what type of eaters will be attending. Is Aunt Sue bringing her lacto-ovo vegetarian third cousin by marriage? Did you somehow score an invite to a wheat-free fête? You won’t necessarily know unless you ask about food allergies/preferences. At one (successful) potluck party I attended recently, the host assigned out dishes, and she herself prepared only the substitutions: a quiche instead of the main fish course for a few vegetarians, a cheese plate instead of a pie dessert for a sugarphobe, etc.
If you’re the host, it’s all about organizing out options. If you’re a guest, it’s all about pressing your host for information about these options. Work together, guests and hosts, to make your potluck perfect. And if all else fails, just make sure the buffet table is stocked with wine.
And here are three take-it-to-go tips:
· Make a recipe you’ve made before, you’ll know the drill and the turnout
· Package components in separate containers, if necessary
· Bring food that can be served at room temperature (or check to see if a stove/oven/refrigerator will be available for use)
How do you know what to bring to a potluck?
Julia Simon
Interactive Planning Manager
Food Network.com
Having never cooked a holiday meal, I can’t say I know that “What am I going to do? I can’t get it done!” feeling that plagues most hosts. But I’ve certainly witnessed my fair share of flustered relatives sacrifice their entire vacation (and most of November) to the altar of T-Day. More than once I’ve hollered into the kitchen: “Relax, [insert relative’s name here]! We’ll just feed that burnt part to the dog. It all tastes the same to her anyway!”
The holidays are tough, and if you’re hosting the festivities, they’re even tougher. There are new and old faces to meet and greet, traditional recipes to master, a house to clean and much more. But it doesn’t have to drag you down. Here are some ideas to make sure your goose (oops, I mean turkey!) isn’t cooked this holiday season:
Plan ahead — If you map out everything ahead of time, there shouldn’t be too many surprises to knock you off kilter. Settle your guest list early, plan shopping lists, set up a cooking schedule, cut corners where possible and, for goodness’s sake, recruit help. You’re a host/hostess — not a martyr! Keep a to-do list, crossing tasks off as they’re finished (is there really anything more satisfying that striking out an item?). Review it to cut any unnecessaries and don’t get too detailed. An endless to-do list is just dismaying.
All things in moderation — Don’t overload yourself or those around you. Do what you can and, cliché as it sounds, remember to give thanks — for the moment, the company and all the good times from the past year. It’s no fun stewing about your great sacrifices or bellyaching that Uncle Bernie’s echoing belch wasn’t quite the “thank you” you expected.
Resist temptations — The holidays seems to bring out the “need to feed” in everyone, but try to avoid overindulgence — in eating, drinking or even spending. You’ll just regret the stuffed feeling, that one wine-fueled snipe, your lighter wallet and the fact that you can’t fit into those jeans you just paid $100 for. Will your brother, who usually thrives on TV dinners, really care about the extra expensive oysters in the stuffing? Probably not. Besides, you’ve still got a couple more holidays to get through so save room for those scrumptious sugar cookies, fried latkes, fudge wreaths and champagne cocktails that are coming up.
Take a time-out — Schedule some quiet time, either before or after the celebration. Most people get (or take) extra vacation days around Thanksgiving — don’t fill them with extra work. Relax! Every year I pick a short book I’ve been meaning to read or even some trashy romance novel I found at a thrift store and promise myself to finish it by weekend’s end. It’s another to-do, sure, but a self-rewarding one.
Hoof it — Go for a brisk autumn walk. It’ll help burn off that pumpkin pie and expend nervous energy. Our family sometimes goes bowling post-feast. Sure, it’s no major cardio workout but it is a change of scenery — and better than bellying up for afternoon football. Just find a way to get away from the stove before you start considering it another limb.
Don’t lose sleep — A tired cook makes for messy accidents. You might burn yourself or the bird and no one wants that. Don’t let an endless to-do list or your anxiety over impressing the in-laws keep you up … if possible. (Yes, we know it’s easier said than done.)
Shop! — They don’t call it Black Friday for nothing. Reward yourself for a meal well-cooked and party well-planed by going out on Friday (or later in the weekend) to buy yourself something fun. Don’t blow the Christmas budget on those leather boots you’ve been eyeballing, but snag a little something-something for a job well done. And if you don’t want to brave the crowds, there’s always online shopping. Thinking about yourself, if only for a little bit, is a nice escape, and no doubt you deserve it.
So, how do you keep yourself on a low simmer during this high-pressure holiday?
You figured since you weren’t hosting Thanksgiving dinner you wouldn’t have any responsibilities? Not so fast my fellow turkey-lover, being a good guest is just as important as the big bird itself. Not to sound like Emily Post, but endearing yourself to the host will not only prove that you weren’t raised by wolves, it will also increase your chances of being invited back. If you’re a guest this season, please consider the following gentle suggestions:
· Ask your host if you can bring part of the meal — and then bring what they ask. Don’t substitute something else at the last moment.
· Find out the dress code — is it a formal, dressed up affair or just clean jeans?
· OK … I know I'm treading on thin ice here, but kids should behave. I’m all for everyone having a fun time, and with all the cousins and friends around, things can get rambunctious in a great way — after all, this is what Thanksgiving memories are made of. But, that said … inside-voices please?
· Help out wherever your host welcomes it: serving, clearing, last minute kitchen prep, etc. If you have an expertise, like making gravy, let your host know.
· Don’t show up empty handed. If you’re not bringing part of the meal, a small gift or box of fabulous chocolates is always appreciated. And if you arrive with flowers, make sure you bring them in a vase so the maxed-out host doesn’t have to drop everything to find one.
· Know when to leave! Thanksgiving can be tricky — piling into the den to watch a football game might still be considered part of the festivities, but if the host starts flickering the lights or shows up in pajamas, that's a dead giveaway that the party’s over.
But, the most important thing a guest can do is to truly appreciate the fact that someone was thoughtful enough to invite them, and to sincerely say "thank you".
The dynamic and success of a happy and harmonious Thanksgiving feast is directly affected by where everyone is seated. At the ripe old age of 35, I’ve learned this the hard way. I now know that this family feast isn’t just an easy dinner party with fun, like-minded friends who actually want to be together — this is your family. And you know what they say about family, you don’t have to like them, you just have to love them. I’m reminded of this saying every year come Thanksgiving.
Through trial and error, I’ve perfected the Science of Seating for my family, or as we call it, don’t seat Uncle Frank next to Cousin Stu! I’m not saying I’ve got it down to an art, but we’ve come a long way from Black Thursday, which my whole family remembers with chills, stomach aches and just lately since enough time has passed, a few smirks and giggles.
Black Thursday took place about five years back when I hosted my first Thanksgiving as a newlywed. If my parents had been doing it with ease for years, how hard could it be? Besides, I had cupboards full of new dishes, serving platters and stemware — I wanted to show off all my new wedding gifts! I put my husband on turkey duty, doled out side dish assignments to all my helpful relatives and set a beautifully appointed Thanksgiving table.
The big day arrived and as relatives filed in with dishes to share, I had nothing but high hopes. After an hour of cocktails and appetizers in the living room, it was time to head to the table. I saw a few eyebrows go up when guests realized they could pick any seat they desired, instead of the normal assigned seats my mother had always set out, but didn’t see any red flags … at least not yet.
How naive I was. Somehow all the quite, mousy relatives ended up at one end and all the loud, boisterous and opinionated kin were at the other. As I sat in the middle of those two ends I noticed that out of my right ear I heard nothing but crickets chirping in the measured silence of the quiet group and out of my left ear, a cacophony of voices shouting to be heard over the din. Well, maybe my mom was onto something, but so far things were still going quite well, if a little lopsided.
With the serving of the pumpkin pie to finish off the meal, the conversation at the loud end of the table turned to politics. While most of us fall somewhere in between the two, a few of my family members are extreme tree-hugging liberals, while another sector are staunch republicans. I don’t know how the topic started, but something about Michael Moore’s latest documentary was brought up and short story long, all hell broke loose. The twenty minutes of arguing turned to yelling which then turned to a challenge to “take it outside”, which was offered by my Uncle Frank to Cousin Stu. After a few more tense moments, the dueling contenders’ wives calmed down their respective mates and order was restored. Needless to say, our evening was cut short with both couples’ early and subdued departures.
A little (ok, a lot!) gun shy, I attempted hosting this joyous holiday again the next year. Everyone had had a year to cool off, there were no new Michael Moore documentaries being released during this holiday season, and I contracted heartfelt promises from both parties that they’d be on their best behavior. I’m happy to say that this time our feast went off without a hitch. The table was lively, balanced, and everyone stayed until they had gotten their fill. Did my family behave better of their own accord? Yes. But I also wasn’t taking any chances. While no one wanted a repeat of Black Thursday, I also ensured 100% success by implementing my mother’s assigned seats rule. I kept the liberals on one end of the table and the red-staters on the other. Where I could, I mixed talkative cousins in with quiet elders to liven up every corner of the table. I broke up couples so they would actually talk to someone other than their spouse. While at first fussy and antiquated in my young and inexperienced eyes, I now realized that this formalized and orderly practice of using place cards was mere Thanksgiving survival. I still had much to learn about the art of hosting our brood and I hoped to do so, gradually over time, instead of getting a crash course like I did the year of Black Thursday.
If you’re sick of pumpkin or pecan pie and want to try something different this year, I have the sweet for you: Paula Deen’s Pumpkin Butter Gooey Cakes. Ever since I first made them four years ago, this dessert has been the star of my family’s Thanksgiving feast.
The recipe is simple and starts off with a box of yellow cake mix, a stick of melted butter and an egg. After pressing the doughy mixture into a 13 x 9-inch pan, a fluffy filling made with pumpkin puree, another stick of butter, sugar, three eggs, a few spices and a tub of cream cheese is spread on top. The result is a buttery concoction that's like pumpkin pie on steroids. It’s less spicy, much sweeter and blessed with a rich, crumbly crust.
The first year I made them, a pre-Thanksgiving celebration with friends left me tired and careless when it came time to bake. This must be why I accidentally put in an additional 1/4 cup of oil and 3 extra eggs. Everyone in my family, even a couple of pumpkin-phobes, couldn't get enough.
After banishing all products with hydrogenated oils from my kitchen the second year, I tried to recreate my own yellow cake mix using Magnolia Bakery’s vanilla cake recipe. The crust came out a bit dry, but everyone still scarfed down a couple of fat, gloppy squares. That was the same year that Henry, my 2-year old cousin, threw a temper tantrum at 6 a.m. the morning after Thanksgiving. After thrashing around for a few minutes, he suddenly looked at me with his tear-streaked face and asked, “Do we have any more of that cake?” I immediately cut him a huge piece, scooped some whipped cream on top, and just like that, he became cute and peaceful once again.
Last year, I used an organic cake mix and I tinkered with the recipe once again, adding only half a box of powdered sugar to the pumpkin filling, rather than the full carton as Paula instructed. The pumpkin was just as smooth against that rich, buttery crumb, and still a little too sweet. Next time, I think I’ll use a bit less sugar and even cut back on some of the butter. But that’s the beauty of these resilient little suckers. No matter how you change around the recipe, they always taste so good. And, you’ll most likely never crave plain, old pumpkin pie again.
This year, I’ll definitely be making some Pumpkin Gooey Cakes but am also thinking about some other treats that’ll spice up my dessert table. I discovered my love of whoopie pies this summer and think pumpkin flavored ones would please both adults and kids alike.
What are some unusual Thanksgiving desserts that you like to serve? Have you taken any Thanksgiving classics and given them a fun spin?
Lia Wiedemann
Director of Convergent Programming
Scripps Networks
I come from a large family (eight kids!) and all of us are married at this point. So, I know from experience, both from watching all my siblings navigate the holiday minefields and once being a newlywed myself, that the first couple of holidays in a new marriage or partnership can be tricky.
We all come to our marriages with strong beliefs and traditions about how holidays should be celebrated. It can be challenging to suddenly join another family for a favorite holiday and not get to practice your personal rituals. For example, my family always had very formal Thanksgivings — we dressed up, brought out the best China and we either hired someone to clean up or my parents just took care of the dishes after the festivities were over. When I started celebrating with my husband’s family, I was surprised to see that everyone wore jeans, we all pitched in (well, the women at least!) and we didn't get to leave until every last dish was washed and dried. There were some years when we even pulled out paper plates for dessert. I’m not saying one is right or wrong — they’re just different. None of my in-laws are particularly keen on cooking (and will readily admit it), so when I offered to take over Thanksgiving, they were thrilled. I now do a compromise between the two styles: We wear jeans, but with nice tops. I pull out the good china and order flowers for my house, but my guests bring their favorite holiday stuffing, desserts, etc. But, one thing I stand firm on — no guest (even though they're family members) is allowed to wash a dish. And this men-hang-out-at-the-table-while-the-women-do-all-the-work is also banished — my husband totally pulls his weight in putting out (and putting away!) the Thankgsiving meal.
My parents and in-laws don’t live in the same state. Since my husband and I spend Christmas with my family, it was an easy decision to spend Thanksgiving with his. I know other married couples struggle with this decision every year. Possible solutions are: alternate years; and if they live close to each other, have a second round of dessert with the family you didn’t eat with. You can always diet the next day.
What are your in-law issues and how do you handle them?
There are a lot of hard decisions when it comes to Thanksgiving. Apple pie, pumpkin pie or both? Seconds or thirds? But if you’re in charge of planning a Thanksgiving meal, you’re faced with the age-old dilemma: lunch or dinner?
My Thanksgiving posse gets the best of both worlds with late-afternoon meal — a “linner” or “dunch”, if you will. We can get up after it’s light outside, but we don’t have to smell the turkey and trimmings all day before we dig in.
My family normally spends the late morning working on our few dishes, then heads over a little early to socialize with the friends we share our Thanksgiving table with. We’re done in time for the avid football fans to watch “the big game”, or for others to visit and play music. And there’s certainly no need for another dinner, although most everyone can squeeze in a sliver or two of late-night pie.
I was in for a rude — or at least early — awakening the first time I had a Thanksgiving lunch with my boyfriend’s family. They eat at 12 sharp, but get there earlier to spend time together and help his Grandma put the finishing touches on the meal. As a night owl, I didn’t like hearing the alarm go off at 8 a.m., but I’m sure his Grandma was out of bed before the sun came up.
Once I got over my silly alarm clock hang-ups, I really enjoyed the early meal. Because I hadn’t been fasting all day, I didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to put half the turkey on my plate or corner the supply of dinner rolls. I was able to enjoy myself and their company, all while saving room for my second Thanksgiving meal.
Is your family the early bunch to carve the bird, or do you wait for sunset before you savor the Thanksgiving spread?
When I was a bride-to-be, I spent an afternoon at Bloomingdales registering for all sorts of cooking essentials: a blender, food processor, waffle iron and lots of pots and pans. When it came time to pick out china, I opted for a casual design — simple white plates with a light blue band. I was afraid I’d get sick of the more frilly designs in just a few years. By opting for more delicate dishes, I thought I’d be able to try different types of table settings. I was sure my inner Ina would emerge any time I hosted a dinner party. Unfortunately, my inner Ina kept me so busy in the kitchen that I didn’t have a second to think about centerpieces and napkin rings and all that kind of stuff. My tables would have been perfect for a picnic in the park. They didn’t really complement my gourmet dinners for eight.
Then I teamed up with Food Network’s design director Wendy Waxman on this holiday feature all about table settings two years ago. Wendy designs the sets for some of our biggest shows — 30 Minute Meals, Emeril Live and Guy's Big Bite to name a few — so to her, table settings are a cinch. Thanks to her, I’m now a pro too!
Here are her Top 5 Tabletop Tips:
1. Year-end sales always have something you didn’t see when you were in a hurry. Pick things up when the season is still fresh in your mind.
2. Don’t feel the need to completely redo and present a fresh tabletop every year. It’s a lot of pressure and not always as effective as just producing one or two new elements. This year, try a new linen color, swap in a different centerpiece or even mix things up with silverware that doesn’t match.
3. A centerpiece doesn’t always have to be in the center. Try using a group of small ones so everyone at your table will be able to appreciate them. If you have any leftover bunches of flowers or bags of fruit, put them around your house — near the TV, in the bathroom or outside — to make those areas festive too.
4. Anything looks good if you add one or two sparkly elements to it. Look around the house for some sparkly ribbon, a shiny ornament or maybe some candles to help dress up your table.
5. Think about what items you already have that could be used for something else. Coasters are good as little hors d’oeuvres dishes, extra beer glasses make good vases and soup bowls are perfect for floating flowers.
The feature we pulled together has lots of great ideas that'll help inspire your Thanksgiving tabletop. My favorites are this rustic setting that’s reminiscent of Giada and this more fancy schmancy one inspired by Paula Deen. It's not necessary to replicate all these ideas. Instead, let them guide and inspire you. Then, after you’ve wowed your family and friends with your expert table setting skills, share some photos with us and your fellow FoodNetwork.com users!
Do you have any special holiday tabletop tips?
Lia Wiedemann
Director of Convergent Programming
Scripps Networks
“Tradition, tradition!” My Grandfather (“Papa”) used to love singing that famous song from “Fiddler on The Roof”. Which is ironic, because my family has no holiday traditions to speak of. Or at least not the ones people have come to expect around the holidays.
When it came time to celebrate Thanksgiving at our house, my mother didn’t have much to do with the kitchen. Instead, she’d grown quite fond of the local grocery store, where she lovingly purchased our pre-cooked turkey, ham, stuffing and pumpkin pie. Growing up with what I saw as a short-cut Thanksgiving bothered me. Like most adolescents, the last thing I wanted was to be different from my friends, whose moms all slaved over hot stoves, not cold freezer cases. But what could I do but love my mom anyway — and appreciate her excellent reheating skills.
Unlike my family’s pieced-together rituals, my husband’s family is the image of a Norman Rockwell painting during holidays. At Thanksgiving, they happily rise at 4 a.m. to put the bird in the oven. Then, a menu is thoughtfully created, pumpkin innards are scooped out and seasoned for pies, and crafty centerpieces and actual place settings are prudently dispersed. When I first started sharing holidays with my husband — then my boyfriend — I half expected his family to don Pilgrim attire after the second course.
But my Midwestern family does try. Especially as new folk join in our celebrations — my Mother’s fiancée’s adult children, son-in-law and boyfriends — a pressure to create a Hallmark-card holiday takes hold. And we attempt, in some ways, to be like my husband’s proper New England clan. Suddenly, the fact that my mother spends the majority of her Thanksgiving day digging up Hindu quotes on gratitude — or the fact that we all sleep in until early afternoon — is no longer acceptable. Instead, we scramble to seem excited about cooking and arranging place settings, which never quite comes across as believable. Recently, I’ve begun to wonder if all of that is even necessary.
As this year’s Thanksgiving nears, I’m going to make it my goal to breathe, be thankful and just embrace my family’s traditions for what they are — perhaps a bit odd, but also endearing. Like the one where we carefully stack Pringles on pretty little china plates as a pre-meal snack. It may not be traditional, but it’s ours.
Let’s face it. As soon as you or your guests show up for dinner, your first thought is: “When do we eat?” After all, we’re all there on a mission: to eat and eat like we’ve never eaten before. Or at least like we’ve never eaten since last Thanksgiving. But inevitably dinner isn’t for another few hours. So what to do?
If you’re anything like my family used to be, you watch your brother twiddle his thumbs on the couch while dodging some relative’s interrogation about your love life, career trajectory, childrearing plans — or lack thereof. Meanwhile, a younger niece or nephew repeatedly pops into the kitchen to ask: “Is it time to eat yet?” And he or she, of course, is saying exactly what you’re thinking.
But who says there can’t be any fun before the feast? Since most of my family camps out on the couch for football or an afternoon snooze after our meal, lately we’ve been making sure to have our fun up front. And for us, that’s board games! Sometimes we just pull out a deck of Trivial Pursuit cards and quiz each other while we wait. Other times, it’s a full-on game of Scattergories or Uno or Pictionary. (My dad cheats — at all three.) At my aunt’s house, there’s always a puzzle out that everyone, at some point, visits and adds pieces to. And if it’s warm enough, we head outside for a quick croquet game. (Yeah, we’re oddly competitive.)
Since the grandkids/kids are now all in their 20s, we don’t have any young children in our family, but soon enough we’ll need to come up with ideas to keep the youngsters entertained. Maybe it could be a simple scavenger hunt around the back yard (e.g. find different types leaves, acorns, twigs, etc.) or a cookie decorating table, where the kids can puts sprinkles and icing on pre-baked sugar cookies. Plus, that way we’ll have an extra — and extra-special — dessert.
We still have a surplus of apples around T-time. Who says that the big cooler in the garage can’t become an apple-bobbing bin? And I don’t care how old you are, that’s always entertaining!
We also always make sure to have an appetizer bar, where kids (big and small) can build their own pre-dinner snacks (bruschetta, cheese and crackers, chips and dips, veggies, etc.) to ease any hunger pangs and keep hands busy. And when I’m the hostess someday soon, I plan to assign everyone a task to help with preparations — setting the table, stirring gravy, cutting the bird, bartending — but on a rotation so the kitchen doesn’t get overrun. And rather than opt for boring background music, I’m going to sweet-talk my more musically inclined relatives to serenade the group — or lead everyone in a sing-a-long (serious or silly). That piano in the living room is just collecting dust, as is.
So what kind of pre-feast fun does your family have?
I am not a vegetarian, but having spent years as one (and a vegan, gasp!), I am quite familiar with all things that aren’t meat but are made to taste like it. I spent one Thanksgiving perfecting little vegetarian pot pies (warm, hearty, buttery — the essence of Thanksgiving food for me) for the big day, but if it’s something resembling a turkey you want, then let’s explore. My favorite un-turkey is Quorn’s Turk’y Roast, which, let’s face it, doesn’t really taste like turkey. But this is exactly why it works so well — it’s one of the few turkey-like dishes that isn’t overcooking itself in turkeyness, a “turkey” quality that is totally, utterly, not from an actual turkey. Other products tend to try really hard to taste like turkey, which inevitably churns out something resembling a too-nutty, too-chewy identity crisis.
Luckily, it’s pretty easy to be a vegetarian on Thanksgiving. Companies like Turtle Island make an entire vegetarian holiday feast, complete with a Tofurky Roast (made from soybeans), cranberry apple potato dumplings, mushroom gravy, wild rice stuffing and something called “Tofurky Jurky Wishstix” (I haven't tried this meal before and have no idea what “Wishstix” are — an animal-product-free wishbone-like thing? Fun!). With the exception of the turkey substitute, though, I like to cook all of my own holiday fare. My veggie-friendly mom makes me stuffing outside the bird, baking bread in vegetable broth with lots of celery, herbs, butter, dried fruit and nuts. And I don’t know about you, but all of the sides on my holiday table are meatless. No one has ever suggested I serve my cranberry sauce, parsnip soup, green bean casserole, candied yams, green salad or mashed potatoes atop cooked cow, so check with the chef to be sure, but these will likely be vegetarian-approved. And it’s easy to make them vegan-friendly: green bean casserole can be substituted for sauteed green beans in olive oil and garlic, buttery or marshmallow-y candied yams can replaced with sweet potatoes baked in olive oil and brown sugar, and mashed potatoes can be whipped with soy milk.
As for dessert, my vegan tofu pumpkin cheesecake has always been a big hit, even among the meatiest of eaters. But this year, I’m dying to try Recipezaar’s Vegan Pumpkin Tart with Pecan Crust. I can’t wait to gobble away, figuratively speaking, of course.
How do you keep your Thanksgiving table vegan/vegetarian-friendly?
Julia Simon
Interactive Planning Manager
Food Network.com
Growing up, Thanksgiving dinner was always held at my grandparent’s Atlanta home. On the drive over to Grandmom and Granddad’s, I would anticipate two things immediately greeting me; the amazing smells from Grandmom’s kitchen — and my rambunctious cousins.
Grandmom would shoo the cousins and me outdoors until it was time for dinner. By mid-afternoon, her sweet Alabama accent would call out, “Y’all come on in and get washed up! It’s time to eat!”
The cousins and I would see our kid table just to the left of the grownup table and know that was the spot for us. Our table was an old, wobbly, folding card table that my grandmother used to piece jigsaw puzzles together. Grandmom was fanatical about her hardwood floors, and looking back, I’m stunned at how she let the five cousins eat from such an unsteady surface. What if we had spilled our sweet tea?!
The adults prepared our food (the kids wouldn’t dream of filling plates over Grandmom’s linen tablecloth). We would ask the grownups for more when we had cleared our plates. Regularly, an aunt or Granddad would walk over and ask, “Who wants more dressing?” and there would be the collective, “Me! Me! I do!”
As for conversation, I can’t tell you what the adults were talking about, but over at the kids table, the cousins would be making me laugh until I cried. That was always the goal (and still is to this day), “Let’s make him laugh until he cries!” I can still hear Auntie “Y’all are going to make Grant sick over there!”
Today, I sit at the adult table at Thanksgiving. My grandparents have since passed away, and we now gather at my aunt’s house. I have to admit, seeing my little cousins over at their kid table giggling and making faces at each other makes me a bit envious. The adult table — it’s just not as fun!
Every fall I gaze with yearning at the fabulous Thanksgiving spreads gracing the covers of all the food magazines. Oh, how I would love to serve my turkey ancho chile rubbed, mesquite smoked, or as confit, surrounded by sides of pan-seared shredded Brussels sprouts and radicchio, braised Russian Kale with brown butter and hazelnuts, or golden-brown caramelized parsnips. But then I remember the point of my Thanksgiving and who my guests are.
As I mentioned in my last post, my primary guests are my in-laws, and this group includes a 12 and 15 year old. The entire group (except my husband) are very traditional eaters and some of my more extravagant creations would not be a welcome addition to their Thanksgiving experience. The first year I cooked for them, I had a little too much citrus zest and chopped herbs in the gravy, which completely ruined it for then-nine-year-old Jenna. I also didn't add the marshmallows correctly to the sweet potato dish (I must have missed the marshmallow class in cooking school) which devastated 12 year old Elissa.
I have learned to balance my artistic/culinary Thanksgiving aspirations with being a good host through the fine art of compromise. I keep my turkey basic (brined and roasted). I serve two cranberry sauces — the ubiquitous canned variety and also a freshly made, sexy one (recipe changes yearly). I serve Pepperidge Farm stuffing (recipe off the back of the bag) and also an over-the-top, no-holds-barred seafood or vegetable dressing (recipe changes yearly) which is really a gift for my pesco-vegetarian husband. The rest of the meal, I just keep simple, fresh and wholesome as possible. I make sure I cover all the Thanksgiving basic food groups of gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, winter squash and marshmallows.
On a slightly related note, I had a job as a private chef in South Hampton many years ago, and one year I had to cook Thanksgiving for my employer's family and billionaire friends/politicians. They wanted the fantasy spread of a sophisticated Thanksgiving, served by three waiters in formal attire, with everything on sterling silver, bone China and crystal. But, I still had to sneak in a couple of secret dishes that reminded them of home. I was required to make a green bean dish that included cooking an entire pound of bacon, not draining it and then adding a bag of frozen shredded green beans. This was then covered and baked in the oven for 45 minutes to an hour, then served as is. The waiters would try to sneak this dark brown, oily mess to one of the kids without the other guests noticing. I also had to make a special Texas cornbread dressing that was handwritten on a note card by the wife’s late-mother. I followed this recipe to a tee (several times in fact), but try as I might, the Mrs. was crestfallen that it didn’t taste like she remembered. I had to be as gentle as possible when I explained to her, that although all the ingredients were the same, it would never taste like her mother had made it.
But back to the present — my own personal trick is to have a dinner party the Saturday after Thanksgiving, invite only food-loving friends, and serve the meal we really wish we had (which might not even include turkey).
What do you do to balance your culinary desires with good host obligations? Any special meals you have to prepare?
Suki Hertz
Food and Drinks Editor
Food Network.com
