It's no wonder I can't fit into my fat pants by January 1.
I always get excited for the holidays. Christmas is my absolute favorite, but Thanksgiving pulls a mean second. It's not all about the food, it's more the feelings associated with the whole day. The well rested feeling after sleeping in. The nostalgia I feel while watching the parade. Filling the house with awesome cooking smells. The joy and excitement of family coming to visit - full bellies and lots of laughter. And this year is no exception. My turkey is already in the bottom half of the 'fridge, hanging out, doin' it's thaw thing; the other shelves are packed with various side-dish fixin's. Over the years, the more I've prepared Thanksgiving dinner, I've tried to streamline the process, and not burden myself with too much food or excess craziness.
However.
There was a year - in my much more foolish youth - where I decided I was going to make the Ultimate Thanksgiving Feast. I mean, like an outdo Martha Stewart Thanksgiving feast. I poured over recipes for weeks, planning just the right menu. I bought brand new plates, serving pieces and linens (all matching, of course). I spent the weekend before scrubbing the house clean. I decided to brine and roast my turkey (thank you, Wolfgang Puck). The pumpkins I set aside and didn't carve from my visit to the you-pick patch back in October were sliced, roasted and pureed for homemade pumpkin pie. I made pie crust from scratch. I baked bread, I snapped fresh green beans, and I planned to my own topping for the aforementioned pie. I did everything short of raise my own turkey for this dinner. But this was going to be the most awesome-est Thanksgiving dinner ever.
EVER.
....
OK...so on occasion, I have been known to be a bit of an overachiever.
So the magical day comes. I woke up to a sparkling clean house, I watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade on the couch in my pajamas and with my mug of coffee warming my hands while the fire roared in the fireplace in the background. And after Santa made his big debut down 5th Avenue, I got up to begin my preparations.
Turkey out of the brine and roasting happily in the oven? Check.
Table set? Check.
Stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole prepped and ready to bake? Check.
Cranberry sauce chilling in the fridge?
......?
Ummmm.....
Yep. In all of the mad preparations for the Ultimate Thanksgiving feast, I had forgotten all about the cranberry sauce.
Luckily, I had bought all of the ingredients for a fabulous homemade cranberry relish, but as I scrambled around my slightly-destroyed kitchen, I couldn't find the magical recipe I had selected anywhere. With the timer on the turkey slowly ticking down, guests texting that they were on their way, and no recipe to be found, I did what any mildly panicked person would do in this situation...
I called mom.
In her calming mom-voice, my mother shared with me a recipe she had for cranberry sauce that I wrote on a piece of paper towel (the only paper I had handy in the kitchen at the time). Luckily it was a simple recipe that I was able to throw together in 10 minutes and quickly cool down in the freezer; thus ensuring that Ultimate Thanksgiving Feast was complete with cranberry sauce.
I ended up keeping that paper towel scribbled recipe with me for the next decade.
Oh...and as far as Ultimate Thanksgiving Feast? Well...one guest spent the whole dinner on the couch, the turkey ended up having to roast an extra 30 minutes, so the side dishes were cold and I whipped the cream for the pie topping too long that it started turning into butter. And on top of it all, I was so sick of food by the time I sat down to eat, that I didn't eat more than a few bites of anything.
But the cranberry sauce?? An absolute hit. I even had people ask me for the recipe.
Mom to the rescue every time.
Mom's Cranberry Sauce
Ingredients:Directions:
2 large oranges (segmented, pith and seeds removed)
2 bags cranberries (approximately 4 cups)
2 cups sugar
1 1/4 cup water
1 cup golden raisins
1 tbsp orange zest (optional)
1 cup chopped pecans
In a four quart saucepot, combine all of the ingredients except the pecans.
Heat to low boil, stirring often. The sugar will dissolve into the water, and the cranberries will begin to pop.
Reduce heat, Continue to stir.
Meanwhile, in a small pan, toast the pecans until softened and fragrant.
Once all the cranberries have popped, the oranges have disintegrated and the sauce has thickened up, stir in the pecans and taste. Add more sugar if needed (however, know that all the flavors will blend together overnight as it chills, so leave slightly tart).
Remove from heat, place in bowl. Let cool to room temperature.
Chill in refrigerator. Will keep for up to 3 days before serving.
