Thanksgiving: food for thought | Life

In the honor of Thanksgiving, the Extra staff decided to delve into some of our favorite vacation dishes – metaphorically, of course.

Turkey and stuffing

Things could have been different for turkeys if the founding fathers had just listened to Benjamin Franklin. "[A] Bird much more respectable than the bald eagle, he wrote to his daughter. No, Franklin never suggested that the turkey become our national bird, contrary to a popular myth, but he praised the character of the turkey.

"He's a bird of courage, though a bit vain and foolish," Franklin went on. He would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British guard who should presume to invade his farm with a red coat.

Now, what patriotic American could possibly eat a bird like this? About 250 million of us in the end. According to the National Turkey Federation, 88% of Americans will enjoy turkey on this Thanksgiving Day. And 97% of those who do will complain that the bird is too dry. Who said that Americans can not agree on anything these days?

OK, I managed to increase this last percentage. But pity the poor turkey. People will roast and salt you, fry you, bake you and smoke you, or humiliate you by cooking in a plastic bag or with a beer can be jostled in your you-know-where and always consider yourself as a vehicle for juice consumption. Turkeys deserve more respect than that.

As united as we can be when it comes to serving turkey to Thanksgiving, Americans are much more divided in stuffing. First of all, many of us do not even call this stuffing, but rather dress. This could be a southern thing, because dressing up seems more honorable and dignified than stuffing. Some people say it's a literal definition: you stuff a bird, you bake a salad dressing in a dish. Others say the opposite is correct, that you can cook stuffing in a saucepan and stuff a bird with vinaigrette. Some people use white bread and others say that it must act of corn bread.

My wife grew up in a family that spent the day before Thanksgiving tearing a loaf of white bread into a bird. So they called it a joke. My mother preferred to cook a Pepperidge Farms bread crumb pan mixed with various spices and turkey juice. I think we called this vinaigrette. These days, my family is preparing a homemade recipe in a baking dish that is so delicious that I could eat seven plates and be happy with the Thanksgiving meal.

This year, I could simply shape my stuffing recipe into a turkey and bake it, so that I can have both turkey and stuffing, while preserving the dignity of the turkey. 39, a bird so honorable. I think Ben would accept.

– Ralph Berrier Jr.

Broccoli casserole

A dish that was not on the buffet table at my family's Thanksgiving this year was broccoli casserole. It was a bit of a surprise, but I was not going to complain, especially since I did not bring anything to the party.

That made me think that maybe I should be the one to prepare the broccoli casserole. I had already prepared devil eggs (version with olives and Tabasco sauce), but I have never tried what has been, year after year, my favorite dish.

In a sense, it does not make sense to love that much, because I really do not like broccoli. It should be cut as if you liked too much, then mix with cheese, otherwise I'm really not interested. And when it comes to cheese, I'm talking about Velveeta.

People sometimes treat me greedy, and I find it funny, because I like Velveeta. I mean, it's not even really food, right? But in the right things, this is the only way to go, in my opinion. For example, casserole of broccoli. And you must have crumbled Ritz cookies too, right? If it's a low-rent version, then I'm a moderate rent guy and I'm not ashamed.

This does not mean that I am insensitive. If I do it for others, I have to take into account the fact that most people probably do not want to get involved with the cheese product. So I searched the Web for appropriate replacement products, and I think I could just enjoy some of them.

Here are some cheese contenders:

1. A creamy cheese sauce that is "a russet of flour, butter and milk and cheddar cheese," with crushed butter crackers (Andy Griffith said, "Everything is better when sitting on a Ritz" ). Source: yellowblissroad.com/cheesy-broccoli-casserole

2. How about a béchamel sauce for your broccoli casserole? I like this idea a lot. Such a recipe adds cayenne pepper, mustard powder, ground or grated nutmeg, salt, pepper and "ripened" cheddar cheese (not "smart-alecky" in advertisements). I found a recipe at simply-delicious-food.com/make-bechamel-sauce-cheese-sauce. Maybe you would go with Captain's Wafers on that one?

3. Fountainavenuekitchen.com has a list of cheeses that melt well – American (including Cooper Sharp), Cheddar, Swiss, Colby, Fontina, Gouda, Gruyere, Havarti, Monterey Jack and Munster. Blue, Brie and Camembert are good options if you remove the skin first. The following founders are not good: feta, cotija, queso fresco, ricotta, halloumi and creamy goat cheese.

All this seems to be a good time for reflection and work. If you are busy or lazy, this means a meeting once or twice a year for family reunions. And as decadent as they appear, it's probably the limit of healthy eating. But holidays are quite stressful without having to worry about calories – so enjoy.

– Tad Dickens

Pumpkin pie

"Pie, pie, me oh my god. Nothing tastes sweet, wet, salty and dry – all at once. Oh well, it's pie.

As soon as someone serves me a piece of pie, I immediately start singing Andie MacDowell's song from the 1996 movie "Michael." OK, well my simplified version sounds more like "Pie, Pie, I like the pie, "slightly misunderstood from the original but wearing the same feeling. Me oh my god, that's pie.

For my family, pie is not just the apotheosis of Thanksgiving dinner. We will make dessert go out for all occasions, big or small. And every member of the family has a favorite that always makes me think of them. My husband loves lime pie, Dad loves Boston cream (which, according to the American Pie Council, is a cake, not a pie), and Mom loves raspberry (probably because of "Mister Magoo's Christmas Carol" of the 1960s). As for me, I eat just about any type of pie, although the apple pie with a piece of cheese on top still makes my taste buds shudder.

"Apple! Pumpkin! Chopped and wet bottom! Come to your house every day if you have them!

So, with all these good pies, why do pumpkin pies have all the love of Thanksgiving?

Although pumpkin pie is probably not part of the first Thanksgiving feast in Plymouth, Massachusetts, squash has probably been served in one form or another. Dessert may have been introduced into the holiday table as early as 1623, but it was not until the 18th century that it became a staple. In fact, legend has it that the city of Colchester, Connecticut, postponed its Thanksgiving holiday from 1705 to a week because it could not prepare a pumpkin pie because of a shortage of molasses. (According to history.com, settlers often used molasses instead of sugar because it was cheaper.)

If you do not want to break a long-standing tradition, start slowly by trying a sweet potato pie instead.

According to a 2014 article by Wichita Eagle, both pies use roughly the same ingredients (such as cinnamon and nutmeg), but their consistency is slightly different (pumpkin pie tends to be creamier).

Although pumpkin pie has become popular in New England, the sweet potato pie has historic ties to the South, in part because sweet potatoes were easier to grow here than pumpkins. Afro-Americans in slavery often cooked sweet potato pie for plantation households, before taking dessert for themselves after improved stoves and processed ingredients became more accessible.

In 2015, singer Patti LaBelle caused a stir by starting to market her sweet potato pies at Wal-Mart. people could not get enough. The recipe can be found online with a quick search on the internet.

Once you've gone to the sweet potato pie, think about the possibilities. Apple! Pecan nuts! Chess! Blueberry! And who said you had to stop at one?

"Pie, me oh my god, I love pie."

– Suzanne Miller

Little bread

In my family, the Thanksgiving dinner had many roles. My part was the rolls. I started my training as a bread guru at the age of 5 and since then I have learned many things. For example, not everyone is going to like honey flakes – but you can never go wrong with Pillsbury croissant rolls.

My important task began a day off when my mother realized that I was bored, while everyone was doing something at Thanksgiving. She was cooking, my father was watching the big game and my sister was watching the parade. So she brought me to the fridge, opened one of the drawers and told me to take a pack of rolls.

At the time, I had no idea what I was doing, but I quickly grabbed two of the packages. One of them had this cute little pasty boy smiling with his dimples, the other was wrapped in plastic and lined with orange. Recognizing the pastry chef on TV, I picked up his package and I gave it to my mother. She then stung me in the belly and I let out a happy laugh.

She then showed me how to spray the pan, roll the triangular pieces of dough into croissants, bend them and place them ready to cook. We did not put them in the oven until dinner was almost ready, but during that time she let me set the temperature and the timer. Later, I was tickled in pink when she and my dad both complimented my "cooking" skills. My sister reluctantly agreed.

In recent years, we have tried Hawaiian buns, French baguette, cookies and even a year, I was allowed to make cinnamon buns for dessert while that. there was apple pie. So now, as an adult, I know that when I'm going to prepare my first Thanksgiving dinner, I'm ready for anything. Turkey on the other hand …

– Alexis Helms

Cranberry sauce

In my home, I mean my mother's housekeeping, I remember that cranberry sauce came in two distinct forms.

First, the red jelly sauce that comes from a can still retains its shape when removed from that can and has a taste and texture similar to that of a Jell-O candy.

Second, a somewhat crunchy homemade relish, which also contains pieces of pineapple and navel orange, which I did not know until I called my mother, Shonna Allen, to inform her of the recipe . When she grew up in Minnesota, her mother had the same taste, but it's not a special family recipe. The copy in mom's box of recipes comes from a pineapple box label.

In my memories, our family ate the jelly sauce and the taste of alternating Thanksgivings. Mom makes sure I'm wrong about it: she serves the Thanksgiving dinner sauce and the relish at Christmas dinner. I'm putting off to his expertise.

She also told me that she was preparing a third dish of cranberries using only the berries mixed with sugar, which I would know if I dined more often at her house.

None of this tackles the question of why cranberries are served for Thanksgiving in the first place. As my mother said, "It has always been."

Mom is not wrong, at least with regard to the history of the United States. Cranberries are typically American, from the northeastern United States (although most of our production is grown in Wisconsin). It's not possible to say for sure that cranberries were eaten during the first Thanksgiving celebrations in the early 1600s, but that's not out of the question.

The English author John Josselyn, in his travelogue of 1671 titled "Rarities of New England," mentions the "Cran Berry or Berry Bear," noting that "the Indians and the l & # 39; English use them a lot by boiling them with sugar for sauce to eat with their meat. Cranberries with game meats like turkey have become an American thing as well … well, growing cranberries in the first place.

When it came to cementing cranberries as part of a typically American tradition, there was no harm in being a favorite of Thomas Jefferson, who had ordered them close to the barrel when he was president .

Modernized harvesting methods introduced in the 1900s made cranberries more widely available but tended to damage berries. Massachusetts lawyer Cranberry producer Marcus Urann pioneered the sale of canned berries and juices. He then co-founded the Ocean Spray Agricultural Cooperative, which in 1941 was the first to offer the frozen "journal" that we are so familiar with today.

At my mother's house, it is served in slices and there are never more left.

– Mike Allen

Stuffed eggs

Back home in Tennessee, my family has already celebrated Thanksgiving because a meal before the holidays was the best time to find distant relatives in Colonial Heights. It means that I went into devil eggs. Not enough, though.

I did not like them growing up. I would eat one to be polite, but grimace well. Somewhere along the line, my tastes have changed, and now they are the first thing I'm looking for everywhere.

There is a lot to say about the basic egg recipe. Boil the eggs, take out the yolks, mix the yolks with mayonnaise and mustard (and maybe a little gherkin relish), steer the goop into this cavity, sprinkle with a paprika garnish and serve. I will eat them all day.

But in recent years, I discovered that I had been safe, it's actually culinary geniuses who have long joked about filling. They mixed pickled onions with sour cream. They prepared them with bacon and jalapeno. Or truffle oil and cayenne pepper. Shrimps, crab, salmon, Philadelphia cream cheese, truffles, caviar, salsa, diced ham, foie gras. Check out some local restaurants for powerful tasty versions.

In 2004, the Southern Foodway Alliance organized a story contest and oral stories. Twenty-four people told their stories and shared their recipes, and another said that such a diabolical name would not make for this dish, but should call "dressed" eggs. See all stories on southernfoodways.org/interview/deviled-eggs-the-basics.

Amazing that such a seemingly basic side has become a testing ground for flavors. Must be because the element itself has been around for so long. According to history.com, the ancestors of devil eggs date back to ancient Rome. The boiled eggs seasoned with spicy sauces were the beginning of the tradition.

Over the centuries, the yellows have appeared and have been mixed with coriander, onion, juice, pepper, coriander and barley or fermented fish (Andalusia of the thirteenth century ). A few centuries later, cooks from all over Europe mixed them with raisins, cheese, marjoram, parsley, mint, and so on. The term "diabolical" was used in Britain in the late 1700s and, a century later, Americans mixed mayonnaise, according to the website.

As for my favorite devil eggs, I like them rather basic, but tasty. Try to mix pieces of horseradish and bacon with yellow, mayo and mustard. Stay away from ordinary mustard and choose something a bit more adventurous. Or sprinkle on your favorite hot sauce and some chopped olives, including chilies.

Looks like I should be aiming for two Thanksgiving dinners this year – or maybe just a big set of eggs riddled.

– Tad Dickens