Turkey Day and Tradition

Are you a traditionalist when it comes to Thanksgiving dinner, or do you like to mix up the menu every year? Like more and more people these days, I’m generally of the to-hell-with-tradition persuasion. But when it comes to Thanksgiving, I want the usual. Save the experimentation and creativity for the other 364 days of the year. Just give me my big turkey dinner with all the trimmings. And don’t dare try to change a thing.

Unfortunately for me, my family is a bunch of turkey bashers. They don’t even want to consider the possibility of having the prescribed meal on the fourth Thursday of November. Because of the anti-turkey contingent, we’ve had Thanksgiving dinner starring pork, beef, lamb, game hens, duck, and even goose. It may be delicious, but it’s not right.

Why must they be so staunchly opposed to turkey? It’s not like I’d subject them to overcooked, desiccated white meat turkey. Even if it’s not their favorite, would it kill them to eat a turkey dinner just once in the course of a year? I mean, Thanksgiving just isn’t Thanksgiving without the roasted turkey in the center of the table and the tryptophan-induced drowsiness at the end of the afternoon.

Turkey or no turkey, there’s one traditional thing that’ll be on our Thanksgiving table no matter what anyone else has to say about it.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Jellied Cranberry Sauce
Printable Recipe

3 cups sugar
2 ¼ pounds (3 12-ounce bags) cranberries

Combine the sugar and 3 cups of water in a large, heavy pot. Heat until the sugar dissolves. Add the cranberries, bring to a boil, and simmer, stirring constantly, for 18 to 20 minutes, or until thick. Puree in a food mill using the finest disc. If the puree has seeds, strain it through a fine mesh sieve to remove them. Transfer to jars and let cool to room temperature. Cover and refrigerate overnight, or until set.

Makes a large batch, about 7 cups. This sauce is less sweet than the ubiquitous canned stuff, and it’s also slightly softer. If you’d like a thicker sauce suitable for molding, simply cook it a few minutes longer. Keeps for several days tightly sealed in the refrigerator.

Cheese and Crackers

If there's one certainty in the world of food, it's that fine cheese must not be served with mediocre crackers. It is a universal truth, and everyone knows it. Yet we serve artisan cheese with store-bought crackers all the time. It’s a shame. It’s a disgrace. It's an injustice against cheese. Why would we spend so much effort (and money—good cheese is expensive) on selecting the perfect cheese, only to debase it with crackers that taste suspiciously like the cardboard box they came in? Crackers ought not be an afterthought—they should be delicious in their own right. The crackers must be worthy of the cheese.


And these are.


Semolina Crackers
Printable Recipe

6 ounces semolina
6 ounces all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 ½ teaspoons kosher salt
6 ounces warm water
1 ½ ounces extra virgin olive oil

Combine the semolina, flour, and 1 teaspoon of the salt in a large bowl. Add the water and ¾ ounce of the oil and mix until a rough dough forms. Transfer to a work surface and knead for about 10 minutes, or until smooth and elastic. Cut the dough into quarters and form each portion into a ball. Wrap each portion separately in plastic wrap and let rest for about half an hour.

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. On a lightly floured surface, roll out each portion of dough to an 11×14-inch, 1/32 to 1/16-inch thick rectangle. As you work, transfer the rectangles to parchment-lined baking trays. Lightly brush the rectangles with the remaining ¾ ounce oil and sprinkle with the remaining ½ teaspoon salt. Bake for 14 to 16 minutes, or until golden brown. Transfer crackers to a rack and let cool to room temperature. Break into irregular pieces and enjoy with or without cheese.

Yields about 12 ounces. Crackers keep for about a week in a tightly sealed container in a cool, dry place.


For flavored crackers, mix 2 teaspoons to 1 tablespoon sesame seeds, poppy seeds, nigella seeds, or fresh rosemary needles into the dry ingredients before adding the wet ingredients.

Picky Eating as a Medical Condition?

If a grown adult refuses to eat anything but grilled cheese sandwiches, fries, and waffles, it may now be considered a legitimate medical condition. Well, call me ignorant because I'd always thought picky eating was bad habit or hang up. Or downright childish behavior.

But apparently it's a disease. So be worried…Your kid is sick if he or she avoids all green foods or consumes only foods that are orange. You should seek medical help if broccoli disgusts you. I'm calling the advice nurse and getting a prescription because I dislike fennel and anything that tastes like fennel. I'm really concerned for my father, who feels violated if there's salad (or any vegetable, for that matter) on his plate. And my sister-in-law, who is repulsed by tomatoes, caviar, and anything else that pops because it makes her think of eyes—I'm wondering if a trip to the emergency room is in order?

I will admit that picky eating could lead to a variety of medical problems that a varied, balanced diet would avoid. But seriously folks. I can't tell you how many times I've witnessed first hand a child reach to taste something new, only to have the parent say, "Little Johnny, you wouldn't like that." Is it any wonder little Johnny grows up to be afraid of trying new foods? Even worse, it's considered perfectly normal when adults prepare one meal for themselves and a completely different meal for the kids. I don't know whether they think they're doing themselves or their kids a favor, or if it's a lack of sense or ability to discipline. My parents taught me that our house wasn't a restaurant and that if I was hungry, I would eat whatever food was put in front of me. I didn't get dessert until I finished my dinner either. Now I eat almost everything, and I'm even working on my fennel-and-anything-that-tastes-like-fennel-hate. And another thing, a kid may grow up to be a picky eater simply because his or her mom was a bad cook. The fact that my husband hated steak most of his life can be directly attributed to a childhood of eating well-done sirloin. The fact is, we are a nation of picky eaters because we are raised to be, not because it's some sort of disorder.

…On the other hand, the next time my husband tries to pick out the almonds from a cake I bake, I'm sending him to have his head examined.

Anyway, here's a recipe for a vegetable that's sure to make picky eaters head for the hills…


Fried Okra
Printable Recipe

¾ cup fine cornmeal
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated garlic
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Canola oil, for frying
¾ pound fresh okra, cut into ¾-inch pieces
1/3 cup buttermilk

Whisk together the cornmeal, flour, granulated garlic, cayenne, and a generous pinch of salt and pepper in a large, shallow dish. Add enough oil to a large, heavy frying pan to come to a depth of ¾ inch. Heat over medium-high heat until a pinch of the cornmeal mixture sizzles immediately when added. Meanwhile, add the okra to the buttermilk, and stir to coat. Transfer the okra to the cornmeal mixture and toss to coat, separating any pieces that stick together. Shaking off any excess cornmeal mixture, add about half of the okra to the oil and fry, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes, or until golden brown. Using a skimmer, remove to a paper towel-lined plate and immediately season to taste with salt. Fry the remaining okra in the same manner. Transfer to a bowl and serve immediately.

Serves 4 to 6. Fried okra is extremely popular in the South, and for good reason—it’s downright addictive! Summer is okra season. Select small okra pods, no larger than your pinkie finger, since large pods can be tough and stringy. Although fresh okra is best, you can substitute the fresh okra with a 16-ounce bag of frozen whole okra with good results. Thaw the frozen okra pods about half way for this recipe. Serve with ketchup or ranch dressing for dipping.

My First and Last Sunchoke

Have you ever tried a sunchoke? I hadn’t, not until just recently. I’d been wanting to try them for some time, but they can be a little hard to come by. So when I spotted the curious, knobby vegetables at the farmers market, I picked some up. They looked innocent enough.

I had always read that sunchokes are good in a potato puree, but I wanted to taste them all by themselves. The point was to experience pure sunchoke, without the flavor being masked by gobs of cream and butter. And to be honest, I’m sort of a purist when it comes to my mashed potatoes.

I decided that the best way to get to know my sunchokes was to roast them with nothing but a bit of olive oil. Of course, I tasted them raw, too. Roasted, they had an unusual texture, somewhere between that of a potato and a water chestnut. They were tasty, with a sweet, nutty flavor. Definitely good enough to add to my repertoire, but…


It turns out that consuming large quantities of sunchokes can have very, very uncomfortable consequences. Let’s just say—oh, how to put this delicately?—that they caused my insides to react just like the Hindenburg. Which is to say, explosively. My guts were all tied up in knots for no less than 24 hours. I’m no doctor, but I believe that’s what’s known as gastrointestinal distress. My husband only experienced mild symptoms.

The fact that sunchokes are still widely considered food and that cookbooks are loaded with sunchoke recipes tells me that lots of people eat them with little or no ill effects. I, however, am not one of those people. And if you are still willing to give sunchokes a try, let me give you this little word of advice: just don’t eat a whole half a pound your first time out.


Roasted Sunchokes
Printable Recipe

2 pounds sunchokes, scrubbed and cut into 1-inch pieces
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400˚F. Toss together the sunchokes and oil in a large bowl. Season generously with salt and pepper. Spread on a baking tray and roast for 35 to 40 minutes, or until tender and golden brown. Transfer to a bowl and serve immediately.

Serves 6 to 8. Sunchokes are also known as Jerusalem artichokes. For the best results, be sure not to overcrowd the pan.