Think it's too early to start planning Thanksgiving dinner? Think again! Nov. 26 may seem like a long way off, but for the holiday host, it's right around the corner. That's why each Tuesday until Turkey Day, we'll bring you preparation tips to ensure your Thanksgiving is as smooth as your gravy (should be).
1. Get a head count.
Now's the time to start inviting people to Thanksgiving dinner. If you're thinking about it, chances are good your friends and family are, too. So if your cousin is bringing her new boyfriend, and both sets of grandparents are coming to town, as well as your parents and siblings, you're going to need to figure out how to seat everyone at your small table with three mismatched chairs.
Getting a head count this early ensures you'll have enough time to borrow tables, chairs and whatever other furniture items you need to so that everyone can eat comfortably, and then have a place to lounge when the tryptophan-wine combo sets in. And don't forget to find out who's a vegetarian, who's allergic to nuts, and any other dietary restrictions you'll be dealing with. The last thing you want to hear as you put your orange-scented green beans with toasted almonds on the table is that your cousin's new boyfriend has a severe nut allergy.
In the month that houses the nation's premier evening of gluttony -- the average American consumes some 4,500 calories every Thanksgiving Day, not to mention seemingly endless leftovers -- it's no wonder November is a dreaded month for dieters nationwide. But despite its most famous celebration, the month also ironically serves as the healthy host to National Pepper Month, Vegan Month, National Pomegranate Month, and National Peanut Butter Lover's Month.
Excuses for culinary celebrations range from tame (National Sunday Day, Nov. 11), to obvious (National Turkey Day -- you guessed it, Thanksgiving Day), to practical (National Leftovers Day follows Turkey Day), to downright bizarre (Cook Something Bold and Pungent Day, Nov. 9). So get cooking -- if only for the holidays that you can stomach.
Notable national food holidays for the month of November, after the jump...
Sugary treats, bread and tamales -- the dead have it so good! The Day of the Dead, orDía de los Muertos, is actually two days that combine Aztec traditions with Christianity's All Saints and All Souls Days on Nov. 1 and 2. It is by no means a somber holiday. In fact the Day of the Dead is a joyous time during which the dead re-join the living and are honored by their families.
Ancestors are memorialized with visits to cemeteries and homemade altars adorned with ofrendas(offerings). These include items belonging to the dead, candles, flowers, a bowl of water, incense and food, of which the dead are believed to consume the essence prior to the living's meal.
The food most closely associated with the Day of the Dead is pan de muerto (bread of the dead). It varies regionally, and is baked in many shapes, including skulls, human figures, crosses and teardrops, then sprinkled with colored sugar.
Tonight marks the beginning of the Jewish new year -- Rosh Hashana -- and with that, a whole new cycle of holidays and special meals to go with it (in case you need another reason to justify that trip to Whole Foods).
This celebration involves quite a few riffs on the ever-popular salty-sweet flavor pairing. The sweetness in honey, apples, pomegranates and dates are added to many Rosh Hashana dishes and is often offset by the rich, savory taste of brisket or chicken.
It's tradition to begin ringing in Rosh Hashana with sliced apples and honey -- like a toast to a sweet new year. No recipe needed here, just hit up your farmer's market for some tart, crisp apples (try Macoun) and local honey.
Marie Antoinette may not have been the one to say "Let them eat cake!" -- we'll never know for sure -- but one thing is certain: whoever said it first wasn't talking about the sugary stuff, but about bread. The phrase is translated from the French qu'ils mangent de la brioche. If said brioche is baked to a perfect golden brown and topped with sesame seeds, we say, "Oui!"
Just in time for Bastille Day, here is an ideal-looking hamburger bun from across the pond. The American treat was given a French twist by Deb at the Smitten Kitchen, who consulted nearly 100 recipes in search of the ultimate bun. In the end, she went with a technique that ran in the New York Times; the buns turned out "plush and mildly sweet and slightly buttery."
Suffice it to say we're feeling fully fired up for Bastille Day. Bon appetit!
With Independence Day just around the corner, we turn our attention to all-American wines for the all-American holiday. I combed through the Slashfood archives to find wines from all around our grand ol' country worthy of an American toast. Here are seven perennial favorites:
Though the words "African food" might conjure spongy, expanding-in-the-tummy Ethiopian bread or the heavy bobotie that resembles a creamier version of moussaka, it's not all like that.
Indeed, gaze upon the malva above: Similar to a milky tres leches cake-- sweet, with a puddle of creme anglaise -- the traditional South African dessert made at Brooklyn, New York's Madiba is every bit as delectable as it looks. It's a fine way to raise a fork to South Africa's Freedom Day -- their 15th anniversary of democratic voting.
Other eateries featuring the country's cuisine include Los Angeles' sporty mini-chain Springbok and Atlanta's sexy-looking 10 Degrees South, where diners indulge in what one reviewer declared "perfectly spiced ostrich." So although that bird -- perfectly-spiced or otherwise -- may not be what you're craving this spring, who could resist a slice of this cake? Not us.
Last Friday, The Nielsen Company (most famous for its TV ratings) released its annual Guide to the Super Bowl ...which primarily consists of statistics compiled after last year's Super Bowl (...from which we're supposed to extrapolate information about this year's Super Bowl). [Thanks to Rob Kasper for turning me on to the press release via his blog.]
Among the guide's findings, "The Super Bowl is ranked 8th among the highest beer selling occasions for the year."
Since I am mildly obsessed with the concept of determining what is the "biggest drinking day of the year" (which, must be noted, is distinctly different than the "highest beer selling day of the year" despite the two ideas being somewhat related), I decided to look into this claim in greater depth.
Shown to the above right is the Nielsen Company's list of "Top Holidays/Events for Beer" as determined by combined beer sales from all U.S. outlets (including food, liquor, convenience and drug) for the "two-week period surrounding the event."
I took one look at this list and though, "Huh-whaaa?!"
The top three look alright, but then everything else seems to go a little haywire. Father's Day at number four?! Easter Sunday beating out Super Bowl Sunday?! I decided to take these question directly to the source...
Is Super Bowl Sunday really only the 8th biggest beer selling occasion of the year? Find out after the jump...
When I signed up for the Burns' Night dinner at St. Andrews Restaurant, I was pretty excited. Not only would I be able to enjoy haggis and other Scottish specialties, but I would also have a great post for Slashfood. Unfortunately, Monika Bartyzel got here ahead of me and did a pretty damned good job of talking up the wonders of the "Great chieftain o' the pudding race." Still, having spent an evening eating offal, sipping scotch, and listening to highland poetry, I'm not quite ready to give up...
My introduction to haggis came on a family trip to Scotland. My mother, who was Jewish and had never quite understood my father's extreme dislike of spices, bought A Feast of Scotland by Janet Warren. As we drove around the countryside, she tore through the tome, alternately giggling, gagging, and exclaiming "You're FREAKING joking!" At the end of all of this, she gazed upon my father and told him that she finally understood his problem. The cookbook featured exactly two spices: salt and pepper, and occasionally exhorted its readers to "add suet to taste." While there is a lot to be said for environment, it was clear that heredity had had at least some effect on my dad's palate.
Just a few days ago, I noted my love for highly specific food traditions, tied to holidays and celebrations -- hoppin' john on New Year's Day, king cake on Mardi Gras, mint juleps on Derby Day. So, it seemed foolhardy not to avail myself of a Moravian Love Feast bun when I had the chance, seeing as how I was in North Carolina, and my in-laws have been attending the Christmas Eve Wesley Memorial United Methodist Church's Love Feast since back when Rudolph was a fawn. I'm not, by habit, a churchgoing gal, but was assured that all (even long-lapsed Catholic school girls like me) are welcome to share in the ritual.
What the heck is a Love Feast, you ask? Well, according to North Carolina and Old Salem Cookery (1955):
No church service is more distinctive than a Moravian love feast. Love feasts are held in connection with holidays such as Christmas, New Year's, Easter and on days of special significance to the church such as church anniversaries and a day set aside to honor missionaries.
During the love feast, each person in the church receives a large, flat yeast bun and a mug of coffee containing cream and sugar.
The love feast is symbolic of the fellowship of the church. The idea behind the simple meal is that those who break bread together are united in the fellowship the way a family is.
While there are regional variations in the components of the feast -- some congregations subbing in warm cider or hot Russian tea for the coffee, or embossing an "M" on the bun tops, rather than the Moravian star seen in the image above -- the recipe invariably calls for the inclusion of mashed potatoes. As a choir or orchestra performs, the buns are passed in baskets throughout the congregation, followed by cups of the hot beverage. After these have been collected, beeswax candles -- decorated with red paper frills to catch dripping -- are distributed to the assembled, lit from wick to wick, and carried in procession out of the church.
Happy New Year, all! Hope everyone had a warm, festive Eve and is relatively headache-free and rested post-revelry. Now, there are as many ways to prepare the cowpea and rice concoction of Hoppin' John as there are squares on a calendar, but in many parts of the American South, the definitive date to simmer up a big ol' pot of it is New Year's Day. While the name's origin is still the subject of some debate -- some scholars asserting that it's a corruption of "pois a pigeon," a Carribean dish enjoyed by Southern slaves while still in their native land, and others claiming it's derived from a 13th century Iraqi dish called "bhat kachang" -- the dish's fans maintain that eating it ensures good luck for the coming year. This may well be superstition, but I'm inclined toward any angle that's gonna get a bowlful of it in front of me on a chilly January 1st.
My grand revelation of the day (though likely hardly news to many of you) is that cowpeas are the genus for the group that contains blackeye peas (most commonly used in Hoppin' John), catjang, and yardlong beans. They're also called crowder peas.
Some recipes for Hoppin' John contain tomatoes or okra, and the swap in of okra for the beans makes it a Limpin' Susie.
Got a favorite variation? Share it below, and peruse my favorite recipe after the jump.
Do me a favor and skip the annual "I will work out more this year" resolution that's practically designed to make you feel like a failure, and make a resolution that you can really get into this year. Of course I'm speaking of wine resolutions, the kind that are easy to make and hard to break. Here are mine:
1. Travel the world through wine. I actually get to travel quite a bit, considering that I have two young kids at home. Last year I went to California twice, to Washington, to Texas, to South Dakota, and to New York. Everywhere I go, I try to taste and experience as many new wines as possible. But you can taste the whole world through wine right at home by branching out beyond the same old bottle of California Chardonnay that you pop open twice a week for dinner. Try a Tempranillo from Spain, a Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile, a Riesling from Germany, a Vouvray from France, a Malbec or Torrontes from Argentina, a Barbara from Italy. I want to taste more around the world, and learn about the cuisines to match.
2. Get certified. I've been writing about wine for several years now, and it's time to take some classes beyond my own self-study. Many wine writers don't, and it's certainly not a requirement, but one of the reasons I love the world of wine is its infinite possibility for education (as well as entertainment!). I'm looking into certification from the Court of Master Sommeliers in 2009.
How do you keep that Christmas spirit going after today is done? Easy. Tomorrow your local beer seller will be back open for business. You run out, grab some Christmas beers, and keep that X-mas flavor going beer-sippin' style all the way to New Years.
Yes, Christmas beers do exist (regardless of how you think Jesus might feel about such a product). Some, like, say, Sly Fox Christmas Ale are a bit more explicit about their affiliations than others, but any winter seasonal can double as a great Christmas drink, and even old cold weather standbys like Guinness can be a perfect holiday treat.
By landing on the 25th, this week's Slashfood Ate (8) beer edition also doubles as a Christmas edition, so I present to you 8 links to 8 different lists of top Christmas beers.
Champagne or another bubbly might possibly be my stuck-on-a-desert-island drink of choice, but not everyone feels the love. Monday I posted my top eight bubblies for the holidays, but if you just don't dig sparkling wine, what can you toast with instead? Here are a few ideas.
Syrah/Shiraz from Washington state or Australia, which is big and voluptuous, smooth and silky all at once. Skip old world Syrah from the Northern Rhone, which, though it hails from the grape's true home, can give off aromas and flavors of green olives, white pepper, leather, and even meaty bacon. Great with a big ol' hunk of meat, not so great as the jumping-off point to a midnight kiss or a glass-raising toast to the man of the hour. Try the Sequel Syrah from Long Shadows Winery in Walla Walla, Washington, a Shiraz-style wine that's perfect for sipping without food.
Moscato d'Asti, a low-alcohol, barely bubbly Italian sweet white that my friend John calls "party in your mouth" is the perfect alternative to the dryness of Champagne. Try toasting with a bottle from Michele Chiarlo.
Dessert wine is best for a tête-à-tête celebration rather than a room full of happy toasters, both because it comes in half-size bottles and it's usually spendy. Splurge with Sauternes, the world's best dessert wine, or try a late harvest Riesling from Chateau Ste. Michelle.
Anything in a bottle bigger than 750 mL: a magnum (2 bottles), Jeroboam (4 bottles), or Nebuchadnezzar (20 bottles, but you'd better have help pouring) will always wow the crowd, no matter what's inside.
When I was young and thought I was cool, New Year's Eve used to mean big cover charges for overpriced open bars (the bars may have been open, but finding a space to get to a bartender wasn't) and overrated entertainment (am I supposed to be able to recognize the name of any DJ?).
Now that I'm older, wiser, and so cool it's mind blowing, let me wax poetic on New Year's Eve for a moment and provide you with my three step plan for New Year's Eve 2009.
First off, everyone wants to get as drunk as possible on New Year's Eve and that. is. fine. You've just left the previous year in your wake and it's almost as if that last day doesn't even happen: Instantaneously, it's a whole year ago and, therefore, can be disregarded. Also, New Years Day is probably the only day of the year where you can be hungover and no one will look down on you. No one. If anything, your stock will rise. So step one, booze is a must.
After the jump, read why steps two and three lead me to believe a beer swap party is the perfect event for this New Year's Eve.