Thanksgiving 2020 will not be the same for most of us. Out of all of the chances for family gatherings, this is the one I will miss the most.
Food has always been the linchpin of our family gatherings. We dine together a lot, but Thanksgiving is the day we bring out our best. We wouldn’t think about getting together without my great-grandmother’s sideboard sagging under the weight of delectable dishes. My family likes to sit close together at a table that is a little too small, and fill (and refill) our dinner plates with savory concoctions that are created once a year. Every single dish is carefully planned, and we make sure all the important recipes are front and center on the crowded sideboard. We recreate the menu that we’ve eaten since childhood, starting at my grandmothers’ tables; both Granny and Mammy set their dining room tables with elaborate centerpieces, heirloom china and sterling silver. My husband’s smoked turkey replaced my grandmother’s oven-roasted bird almost 20 years ago, but we still dress it with lots of rosemary and butter, her secret ingredients.
Every fall, my mother, sister and I discuss our menu for weeks before the big event, making sure we have our traditional dishes covered, and contemplating the addition of new recipes. Would the roasted brussels sprouts with bacon and pecans I found on Pinterest work with my mother-in-law’s squash casserole? If not, we scratch the little cabbages, no matter how cute and tasty they may be. We don’t need to discuss eliminating the relish tray, my late father-in-law’s mandatory it’s-not-Thanksgiving-without-it dish. This hodgepodge of common vegetables Bo insisted upon was never really eaten, not with all of the other decadent choices. But the first Thanksgiving after he died, the simple little platter of curled celery, baby sweet gherkins, green olives and carrot sticks was picked clean, everyone probably still arguing with Bo that plain celery should not count as a holiday appetizer. But that little relish tray brings him smack dab in the thick of us.
I make my grandmother’s brandied cranberries every year, picturing her in a starched gingham apron with her snow white chignon stirring the Le Creuset pot in her little kitchen. My brother-in-law makes the collard greens – he cooks them overnight with local ham hocks and red pepper, a trick he learned from his father, and one he is passing down to his own son. My mother-in-law is 90 years old, and she still makes the squash casserole. It is like no other squash casserole I’ve ever tasted – sweet and savory at the same time, and impossible not to overeat.
I should have mentioned that our dessert table is larger than the food table. And there is no such thing as a small serving of one dessert. We all weigh in on the idea of serving a chocolate cheesecake instead of date sticks with Mammy’s boiled custard, which is non-negotiable. My late father grew up stirring the sweet rich concoction with a wooden spoon, standing in the highchair by his mother’s side. He equated this creamy decadent dessert with love, and the hours he spent in the kitchen with his mother were some of his most treasured. The first year after Mammy’s death, my mother made the boiled custard. It curdled, and although we still ate it, the void made by the absence of my grandmother was almost palpable.
My sister made it the next year, serving the creamy sweetness in Mammy’s pale pink etched goblets, sprinkled with fresh grated nutmeg. We savored the satiny smooth custard, the backs of spoons cool against our tongues, and imagined our grandmother bustling about the table, making sure we had plenty of hot buttery yeast rolls and reminding us to keep our elbows off the table.
This year will be our seventh Thanksgiving without my father. I text instead of dialing the rotary phone to let my family know it’s BYOB, and I may not set my table with heirloom china and polished sterling silver, but the feast we prepare is the same as it’s been for over 50 years. The smells permeating the house all afternoon – savory and mouthwatering – bring me back to my childhood, and I remember Mammy roasting the turkey and Granny stirring the cranberries as I salivated over the anticipated lavish meal. Again this year, no matter how few are at the table, we’ll eat boiled custard, lifting our pale pink goblets of the pale golden cream, and toast Daddy, our eyes shining as we remember everyone no longer at our table.
Dan’s Smoked Thanksgiving Turkey (adapted from Mad Max’s Turkey on nakedwhiz.com)
1 fresh turkey – 11-12 pounds
9x13 foil pan for drip pan
1 stick butter, softened
5-6 sprigs fresh rosemary, chopped
1 bunch parsley, chopped
1 orange
1 apple
2 onions
1 cup chicken stock
1 bottle dry white wine
Brine Ingredients
2 cups Kosher salt
2 cups brown sugar
4 cups apple juice
4-5 sprigs rosemary
5 garlic cloves
3 bay leaves
Peels of 4-5 oranges
Gravy Ingredients
Neck, giblets, heart and liver from turkey
1 onion, quartered
3 large carrots, peeled
3 ribs celery
Take neck, giblets, heart and liver out of turkey and put in stock pot after rinsing. Add eight cups water, onion, carrots and celery and bring to boil, then simmer all day or all afternoon, adding water when necessary.
Add brine ingredients to large pot, along with 10-12 cups water, and bring to boil. Let cool completely. Rinse turkey under cold water, then carefully separate skin from turkey breast; start at tail and work your hands up toward the neck. This will ensure the brine reaches the meat. Place the turkey in large turkey roasting bag and place in refrigerator overnight or up to 24 hours.
Rinse turkey well and discard the brine mixture. Pat turkey dry. Mix five tablespoons softened butter with three or so springs of rosemary and parsley and spread butter mixture on breast under skin and all over top of skin. Soften butter mixture in microwave for a few seconds if it gets too hard to spread. Put orange, apple and onion and rosemary in microwave safe dish with three sprigs rosemary and one cup chicken stock and cook for five minutes. Let cool. Stuff cavity of turkey with apple-orange mixture.
Let turkey sit for 30 minutes to one hour before putting on the smoker. Thirty minutes before the bird goes on the smoker, place a zip-lock bag filled with ice over the breast. (This ensures the breast cooks slowly and does not dry out by the time the thighs and legs are done.)
Soak about two cups apple wood chips in water for 30 minutes, then put wood chips over coals in Big Green Egg. Place a v-rack in the 9x13 foil pan, add one cup dry white wine and a few apple slices to drip pan. Place turkey on v-rack, breast side up. Smoke at 325 degrees for about 15 minutes per pound, or until temperature reaches 165 degrees. Flip turkey to breast side down about halfway through cooking.
When removing turkey, tilt cavity toward drip pan so all juices run out into pan; this goes into gravy.
Let turkey sit 30 minutes before carving.
To prepare gravy, pour everything from drip pan into a measuring cup, removing apple. Fat will separate as it cools so remove some of it. Scrape remnants of drip pan into sauce pan or deep skillet (they will be charred and burnt looking) and add rest of butter and contents of measuring cup. Cook over low heat, thickening with flour or cornstarch. Add white wine slowly, stirring constantly. Remove giblets, neck, heart and liver from saucepan where they’ve been simmering and chop. Ladle broth from giblet saucepan into gravy, stirring.
Carve turkey and serve with gravy.
Nanny’s Squash Casserole
3 cups sliced yellow summer squash (9-10 medium squash)
1 onion, peeled and chopped
1 tablespoon butter
2 eggs
1/4 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
Dash pepper
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
Boil squash and onion and drain well. Place in large mixing bowl with butter. Mix milk, sugar, salt, pepper and eggs, then stir into squash mixture. Turn out into greased 1 -1/2 quart casserole and top with grated cheese. Bake at 375 for 30 minutes. Serves four to six.
Brandied Cranberries (from The Gorgeless Gourmet’s Cookbook)
12 ounce bag of fresh cranberries, rinsed
1 cup sugar
1 cup sherry, ruby port wine or other sweet wine
Mix all ingredients in saucepan and bring to boil, stirring. Let simmer 20 minutes. Mixture will thicken as it cools. Serves six to eight.
Southern Collards (from Wejun Robinson)
2 large bags pre-washed collard greens
1 ham hock
1 quart chicken broth
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper
4 garlic cloves, chopped
Put ham hock in bottom of large slow cooker and pack greens on top. Sprinkle with brown sugar, red pepper and garlic and pour chicken broth over top. Cover and cook on low for 24 hours. Remove ham hock, shred meat and return to mixture. Serves six to eight.
Boiled Custard (from Never Trust a Hungry Cook)
4 eggs
1 quart whole milk
1 tablespoon cornstarch
Pinch salt
Vanilla to taste
Fresh nutmeg
Mix sugar and cornstarch. Add eggs to mixture one at a time and place in double boiler. Add milk gradually and cook, stirring constantly, until mixture coats the back of a spoon. Add vanilla and salt. Serve in stemmed glasses sprinkled with fresh grated nutmeg. Serves six to eight.
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Ferris Robinson is the author of two children's books, "The Queen Who Banished Bugs" and "The Queen Who Accidentally Banished Birds," in her pollinator series, with "Call Me Arthropod" coming soon. "Making Arrangements" is her first novel and the ebook will be only $.99 until Nov. 9. "Dogs and Love - Stories of Fidelity" is a collection of true tales about man's best friend. Her website is ferrisrobinson.com and you can download a free pollinator poster there. She is the editor of The Lookout Mountain Mirror and The Signal Mountain Mirror.
Ferris Robinson