In no way claiming to be an authentic Thanksgiving feast (OK, I admit I'm trying to muscle in on somebody else's holiday), here's the meal we put together last night on the spur of the moment after Gerard suggested roasting a chicken. We ate it in memory of last year's snowbound Thanksgiving dinner with Ken and Linda in northern Michigan, and of all of our cherished American friends. (Sorry we couldn't get organised to do it on Thursday with you, Lex and Justin.)
* Roast chook, Gerard-style (rubbed with lemon, with a peeled lemon and 4 garlic cloves inside the cavity, and thyme and sage from the garden tucked between the flesh and the skin)
* Creamy mashed potatoes
* "Stuffing" cooked outside the turkey (cubed Sonoma Bakery spelt fruit bread - the half we didn't eat with French butter this morning - chestnuts, ham, onions, celery, sage, melted better, egg and nutmeg)
* Brussels sprouts with butter, lemon and walnuts
* Allspice gravy (Nigella Lawson's recipe, but omitting the honey)
* Cranberry sauce (dried cranberries warmed in a bit of orange juice then left to set)
With the closest thing we had to my current obsession with white burgundy: a 2004 Freycinet Chardonnay. Started with a whisper of vanilla and green apple, finished with melon flavours. No dessert necessary; this was satisfying enough.
Even better the next day on the couch in front of the Ashes! This is one pleasure you can't get in Michigan...
To absent friends... love them all
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