In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
In a Thanksgiving world gone potluck, I sometimes feel like one of the last turkey-and-all-the sides hosts. Certainly, I am the only one on our L.A. Times Food staff who serves the whole meal.
That’s because for many of us Thanksgiving has evolved from a days-long cooking marathon to a shared cooking (and sometimes takeout) experience. One person, most often the host, is responsible for the turkey and everyone else brings the sides and pies.
Of course, this frequently requires last-minute juggling as guests compete for stove space to reheat the sides and get the mashed potatoes just right. But the potluck approach to Thanksgiving is not only sensible, it adds to the spirit of the holiday with everyone at the table making a contribution. (Consider that the Wampanoag didn’t show up empty-handed when they joined the Pilgrims in 1621 for the harvest bash many historians say was the first Thanksgiving.)
Still, guest contributions can vary wildly, from for-better-or-worse but reliable family recipes to a talented cook’s restaurant-worthy creation that may or may not go with the meal. Then there’s always the person who shows up with a supermarket pumpkin pie, oblivious to other guests’ more carefully considered dishes. (That pie, by the way, almost always gets eaten.)
All that said, I happen to love my role as a traditional Thanksgiving host, often for more than 20 guests. But I don’t do it alone. I happily ceded pie duties years ago to my sister-in-law, Lisette, sometimes supplemented with a stellar pecan pie by a dessert-obsessed photographer friend of mine. And after years watching their late father and this paper’s former restaurant critic, Jonathan Gold, make his favorite meal of the year, my two adult children have stepped up in the kitchen.
Not only do they peel hot chestnuts for our apple-sausage stuffing, saute onions for the green beans and help make the mashed potatoes, creamed leeks (which this year we are making with the Row 7 hybrid sweet garleek) and charred Brussels sprouts with thick-cut bacon, they have their own signature dishes. Isabel makes braised fennel, olive and caper bread pudding from a recipe in Claire Ptak’s “The Violet Bakery Cookbook,” and Leon makes a spiced-up version of a macaroni and cheese recipe from Southern Living. Over the last couple of years my partner, John, has added chile-crisp-and-maple syrup-glazed Japanese sweet potatoes from a Momofuku recipe to our table.
Each of these dishes, an evolving memory album of sorts, is a way of connecting us to our past traditions while making room for new traditions. Because Thanksgiving, no matter how you celebrate it, is personal.
To help you make your own new personal traditions this Thanksgiving, the writers and editors at L.A. Times Food have each contributed a favorite holiday recipe. You’ll find Jenn Harris’ pickle-brined turkey; Stephanie Breijo’s oyster dressing from her Aunt Angie, modernized with fried oysters; Bill Addison’s “best mac ‘n’ cheese in the known universe”; Cody Reiss’ baked-not-boiled mashed potatoes; my own garleek twist on creamed leeks; Daniel Hernandez’s crunchy persimmon and celery salad; Danielle Dorsey’s “can’t we all just get along” holiday sangria, and Betty Hallock’s mom’s “better-than-classic” pecan pie with an extra-lush custard. These recipes work well whether you’re making the entire meal or just need a single dish to make sure you’re not the one at the potluck with the supermarket pie.
