T-Minus 7 Days and Counting to T-Day

Here at Chez Becky Home Ecky, the countdown to Thanksgiving has begun. This year, the in-laws plus two aunts will be our guests, bringing the total number of diners to six adults and two children who seem to live off turkey fumes and not much else. In other words, I don't factor them in much when it comes to actual turkey consumption. Still, I was persuaded by Joe, the butcher, God bless him and his bloody apron and handlebar mustache, to order a 14-pound bird. We all know where this leads: turkey soup, turkey bagels, turkey, turkey and more turkey.

I digress.

I do cook a mean turkey. My secret is cheesecloth. I have no idea about deep-frying or brining or any of those fancypants techniques. I just baste the sucker while it's covered in cheesecloth and remove it for the last hour. No Butterball hotline required.

To me, Thanksgiving is all about the sides. Those are the labor-intensive portion of the meal. In the spirit of learning from cooks past, I perused the recipes from my grandmother's black book (otherwise known as Command Central of the family). Guess what? There are basically no recipes for anything that isn't a dessert, and that's because my grandfather owned the town's IGA (grocery store for the non-Midwesterners out there). When the store closed on the day before Thanksgiving, Grandpa would bring home everything that wasn't sold. It was not implausible that we would find the following on our Thanksgiving table: Turkey. Duck. Goose. Beef Tenderloin. So my grandma would cook whatever he brought. Oh, but she did have a superb recipe for cranberries. My mom says that the fresh berries would "pop" when she hand-cranked them through the meat grinder. That is one thing I am making by hand. What about you?