{Feast} A Modern Thanksgiving

photo by Yunhee Kim 

Throughout childhood, my mom's annual Thanksgiving was utterly classic-- a Butterball turkey, mashed potatoes, bagged stuffing, grandma's cranberry relish, turkey gravy, warm buttery dinner rolls, and two pies: pumpkin and pecan. The only discussion was whether to make mom's version of sweet potatoes (candied) or dad's (smashed with marshmallow topping), or both (the answer: both!).

The first Thanksgiving after I graduated from culinary school, my siblings put me up to making the whole meal. The mashed potatoes were riced (read: luxuriously lump free) and extra rich (yes, cream). The turkey was brined and the gravy herbed. The rolls were homemade, of course, and the stuffing a decadent, wild mushroom and sage number. My family said it was the best Thanksgiving meal they'd ever had. And then, agreed that they still wanted mom's henceforth. Ah, tradition. 

Truth? That's been a great deal for me--it's the one day of the year I usually don't cook. Plus, Thanksgiving cooking is epic. Super intense. You need a trunk full of ingredients. You need counter space, oven space. You need to wake up early to put in the turkey (deal breaker.). By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, I've already cooked  my heart out all year long; I'm more than happy to just show up to the meal, hungry. 

But somehow I always get lured into making dinner the night before. That's when I cook the meal I really want to eat--the meal I'd be making if I were hosting thanksgiving. This meal would star fish, my favorite protein, and would be decidedly autumnal and centerpiece-worthy. 

It would also be epically easy, because my days of ricing potatoes, folks, were over long ago. These days, I'm more likely to put that effort into getting the family to agree on what movie we'll watch after we've cleaned up, which, by the way, will take just minutes, since this whole meal roasts on one cookie sheet, unlike our beloved pilgrim's feast. 

This, friends, is the modern Thanksgiving. 

ROASTED WILD SALMON, MUSHROOMS AND SQUASH WITH HERB GREMOLATA | SERVES 4

5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 organic acorn or delicata squash, seeded and thinly sliced

8 oz oyster mushrooms, trimmed and cut into bite-sized pieces

4 small shallots, peeled and quartered

Sea salt and freshly ground pepper

1 1 ½ -pound skin-on side of wild salmon or arctic char

1 handful sorrel or arugula, chopped

1 handful parsley, chopped

1/3 cup toasted pine nuts

Zest and juice of 1 lemon

Serves 4 {easily doubled or tripled} 

Preheat the oven to 375°F.

Toss together 2 tbsp of the olive oil with the squash, mushrooms, and shallots in a medium bowl. Place in the bottom of a large oven-to-table baking dish and spread out evenly. Season with salt and pepper. Bake until squash is fork-tender and the mushrooms mostly roasted, with some golden and crispy parts, about 20 minutes.

Coat the salmon with 1 tbsp of the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Lay the salmon on top of the vegetables and continue roasting until just cooked through, about 10 minutes more. The salmon should be pale pink on the outside, easily flaked with a fork and ever so translucent pink in the very center.

Meanwhile, stir together sorrel, parsley, pine nuts, and lemon zest and juice with the remaining 2 tbsp oil. Season with salt and pepper. Scatter the gremolata wildly all over the top. Bring the baking dish to the table still warm from the oven (or transfer the fish and mushrooms to your favorite platter before you add the gremolata) and serve portions of fish, squash and mushrooms with plenty of gremolata for each person. 

{best of} Thanksgiving 2012

{download the menu and pdf here, under Bonus: Classic Menu. }

Thanksgiving comes but once a year. Unless, of course, you're a food stylist, recipe developer, food editor or anyone who works in food media. For us, there's thanksgiving #1, in the summer, when we're busy cooking up the features, and then real thanksgiving again come November, when, incredibly, we're finally in the mood for it again.

This year, I contributed a classic Thanksgiving feast to Rachael Ray Magazine {download here}, complete with a few tricks for making your bird the juiciest ever (hint, flip the bird halfway through cooking), killer mashed potatoes and a pumpkin pie I think you'd be super proud to call your own. 

And then I sort of forgot about Thanksgiving until the November issues of every magazine I subscribe to (too many, I can't help myself) starting hitting my mail box. Miraculously we, the *food people* behind these pages, managed to recreate the classics yet again, in ever new and inspiring ways that have me, frankly, salivating. If I had the help (and the stomach) for the world's largest feast, here's what I'd serve between my turkey and my pumpkin pie.

The Best of Thanksgiving 2012

~

Goat Cheese Mashed Sweet Potatoes {Better Homes and Gardens}

Mustard Greens, Roasted Squash and Hazelnut Salad {Bon Appetit}

Haricot Verts and white Beans with Shallot Vinaigrette {Food & Wine}

Brussels Sprouts Salad with Avocado and Pumpkin Seeds {Whole Living}

Sage & Honey Skillet Cornbread {Martha Stewart Living}

Pumpkin Cheesecake {Real Simple}

~

Hats off to my friends and colleagues in the food world. You are a remarkable bunch, and I'm grateful to be among you. And to the rest of you, I hope your platters are full of plenty, and your home the host to dear friends, family and oodles of things and moments to give thanks for. 

with love + gratitude,
Sarah

Here Let Us Feast

harlem, new york

To give thanks for the blessing of a year, it is not necessary to have a large house, a large family, or even a large budget, only a large heart. Such are the hearts of our friends Kirsten and Dario, whose table became the family table of fourteen New Yorkers who are related by love alone.

We fourteen prepared a consummate feast of our favorite foods and traditions, traditions that included a prayer in the languages of all present at the table {French, Hungarian, English and Spanish}, crowns of construction paper, candlelight, word games, and seven styles of pie.

There is only one rule for this kind of entertaining. Make Room. Make room at your table for all who will come {borrow a set of silver from a friend or a few extra chairs from your super}, make room for every tradition {from hymn singing to football tossing}, and make room for the time and the talents of every guest {ask the artist to make name cards, the rock star to rock the play list, the chef to carve, and the socialite to toast}. Make room for new friends and old ones, for spills and imperfections, for surprise guests and early arrivals. Make room for the folks who stay late, for dishes that don’t get done, and for the souls that will be fed by your good cheer. Make room for fun.