What’s on your Thanksgiving dinner table this year? —Dave L., St. Louis
From Grandma's two-days-in-the-kitchen feasts when I was growing up to today's family potlucks, my Thanksgiving meals have been mostly traditional and predictable over the years. But I have been able to sneak in a few surprises... Here's an item-by-item breakdown, both years ago and now:
PRE-MEAL:
- Then: A platter containing pieces of celery stuffed with either cream cheese, Kaukauna Club Port Wine spread, or pimiento cheese that came in glass jars that we later used as juice glasses. The garnish included stuffed green and black olives with pits, which my three sisters and I never touched. (Later, we'd watch home movies of the adults eating olives—backwards.) For decades, there was little variance on these hors d'oeuvres (a term we used on Thanksgiving because it sounded fancier).
- Now: A platter of jumbo shrimp from Bob’s Seafood, gently boiled with Old Bay seasoning, deveined and served with two versions of homemade cocktail sauce, standard and "nuclear." Another platter that includes Salume Beddu charcuterie and soft and hard cheeses is now standard issue, accompanied by thin crackers. Lately, themed crudité creations have appeared (see right).
DINNER:
Turkey:
- Then: A 20-to-25-pound frozen turkey (standard issue from the A&P store, or occasionally the premium version, a Butterball) that sat in the refrigerator, thawing for what seemed like a week. The bird took all afternoon to cook and was basted constantly, with my grandmother invoking, “Bless you, Tom” at every baste.
- Now: A fresh, free-range bird (traditionally roasted) in recent years recently gave way to a spatchcocked version (butterflied by the butcher). Spatchcocking is advantageous in several ways. The thighs and drumsticks lie flatter and cook at the same rate as the breast meat. All of the skin is exposed, so it’s uniformly crispy. And the thinner profile cooks 50 percent faster than traditional methods as well as lends itself to grilling. (I now eat almost exclusively dark meat, a 180-degree turn from when I was younger.)
Gravy:
- Then: Made from the drippings, with a cube of chicken bouillon added but no extra poultry stock. A smidge of Kitchen Bouquet was added to enhance the otherwise pale color. One constant: There was never enough gravy for leftovers.
- Now: The gravy base is a slow-cooked turkey stock made from about $25 worth of necks, tails, wing pieces, and vegetables—good enough to eat on its own. There’s always enough gravy for a weekend’s worth of leftovers.
Dressing:
- Then: A traditional bread-based dressing, using cubed and shredded dried white bread, celery, onions, the giblets, dried poultry seasoning, and a lot of butter. (It was always called "dressing," never "stuffing," even though the bird was, in fact, stuffed.)
- Now: A riff on the traditional recipe, using 100% staled brioche bread, turkey stock in place of most of the butter, and fresh “poultry mix" herbs instead of dried. I also cook a pan of more robust stuffing, incorporating fresh oysters and a heavy hand of shiitake mushrooms.
Bread:
- Then: Crescent rolls from Pepperidge Farm
- Now: Croissants from Nathaniel Reid Bakery
Sides:
- Then: What I call the usuals: mashed potatoes, canned or frozen green beans topped with French’s Fried Onions, real cranberries (a canned option came later, but the family got over it), frozen peas and pearl onions, and sometimes candied yams or sweet potatoes (occasionally topped with marshmallows)—plus a tart relish made from sliced cucumbers, vinegar, sugar, salt, pepper, and French’s yellow mustard (my grandfather worked for the company).
- Now: Interpretations on the above: garlic mashed potatoes, brown butter haricot verts amandine, a simple sautéed fresh spinach, cranberries with oranges and fresh pineapple, and that fat-cutting cucumber relish, now made with European cucumbers and Hendrickson’s dressing.
Dessert:
- Then: Homemade pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies. (Mincemeat was only served for Christmas).
- Now: Pies from a local baker. This year, it’s a Salted Caramel Apple Pie from Dottie’s Flour Shop.
Beverages:
- Then: Thanksgiving was a splurge, so a sparkling wine (likely from New York state).
- Now: A choice of bubbles, a Pinot Noir, or a Sancerre. This year, it's the following, all from The Wine Merchant: a clean, pure Premier Cru Brut Reserve grower's champagne from Sabine Godme ($35); the highly rated yet inexpensive Willamette Valley 2014 Big Fire Pinot Noir from R. Stuart and Co. ($16.99); and the 2016 Sancerre Terroir de Silex from Gerard Fiou ($19.99). Oh, and a bottle of rosé, for my mom. "And not the cheap stuff," I was advised. "I'm too old to drink the cheap stuff."
Leftovers:
- Then: A repeat of the dinner meal later that weekend, sandwiches slathered with Durkee Famous Sauce for lunch.
- Now: Same as above, but using different relishes and mustards as sandwich condiments.
OTHER CONSIDERATIONS:
— Buzzfeed will predict the state where you live based on your Thanksgiving meal. (It predicted Rhode Island for me.)
— Anthony Bourdain suggests cooking two birds: a business turkey (for carving in the kitchen) and a stunt turkey (for display at the table), “artfully arranged, using any and all manner of garnishes and props, including (but not limited to): chop frills, rainbow pinwheels of skewered citrus fruit slices, maraschino cherries, curly kale, lit sparklers, and crisp, new $100 bills and/or gold leaf.”
— If you’re bored with the traditional offerings or want to shock the family with a wacky leftover option, consider a Thanksgiving Turkey Cake, a complete meal in sliceable form.
Follow George on Twitter @stlmag_dining or send him an email at gmahe@stlmag.com. For more from St. Louis Magazine, subscribe or follow us on Facebook and Twitter.
