People have firm holiday cookie traditions. If you're my mom, for example, you can't have Christmas without Pfeffernüsse. Growing up, my sisters and I all scowled and made fun of the cookies, calling them "Heffernutters," all the while reaching for the jam thumbprints we loved. My college roommate couldn't have Christmas without her mom's Almond Horns, my best friend growing up loved her grandmother's recipe for Mexican Wedding Cookies, and in skyping with my boyfriend's mother last week I learned all about her infamous Nutmeg Logs. Everyone has one cookie that just does it for them.

For me, it never feels quite like Christmas without simple, frosted sugar cookies. Because it's often so busy leading up to the week of Christmas, I usually don't get around to them until the day before when my dad and two sisters gather for the annual "Cookie Day." When my parents divorced twelve years ago, it became important for both to claim what traditions they'd keep and to forge new ones. My mom got Christmas Eve with us, so my dad started "Cookie Day" so we could all do something together during the day. On Cookie Day, my sisters and I all choose one cookie recipe we want to try, give my dad a shopping list of ingredients, and gather after lunch on Christmas Eve Day with loads of take-home tins and enthusiasm. We spend the day baking, making hot chocolate and tea, and taking goofy photos.

Last year we made a new cookie that was part of my recipe testing for Marge at the time. I did housemade "oreo's" as part of my regular line-up but knew I wanted to tweak them for the holidays. They were a big hit (with the business and with my sisters) and so we're doing them again this year for Cookie Day. I believe this is the first reoccurring cookie to ever grace the Gordon Family cookie table. And it's worthy I assure you, and I'm excited to share the recipe with you today.

The nice thing about this recipe is that you can do it in stages and the cookies, even when put together, have quite an impressive shelf-life if kept in the fridge (I've kept them for a week and they've been just fine). The dough is a little finicky, and you must allow it to chill for the appropriate amount of time without letting it chill so long that it becomes hard as a rock and you really need to work relatively quickly when rolling them out. But they're no more difficult than any slice-and-bake log cookie when it comes right down to it, and they'll make your house smell like an early Christmas gift.

Quickly, when you read the recipe, if you're anything like my own friends and family you're going to want to try and make these without Crisco. Don't. Trust me. I've tried. You need a little Crisco in the filling to help stabilize it. I know some people really hate using it and I get that, but the filling on these cookies will be a relative mess without it. Also, you'll get a feel for this dough the more you make these cookies. But in order to roll it, you need it to be quite firm but not rock hard. If you chill your dough for too long and it does become rock-hard simply put it in the microwave for 20 seconds and knead gently until it's more malleable. Happy holiday baking to all!

Homemade Peppermint Sandwich Cookies
For the bittersweet chocolate in this recipe, I use a 60-72% Callebaut in the bakery and a Scharffen Berger semi-sweet chocolate. I splurge and use Valrhona cocoa powder as well. These are the kind of cookies where chocolate is a main ingredient and you really will be able to taste the difference between using a ho-hum chocolate and a really wonderful chocolate. And for the filling: some folks prefer a much sturdier filling than others, so add the confectioner's sugar slowly and know that you'll need to add more or less than the recipe calls for depending on your desired consistency.

Makes: 18-20 cookies

Prep Time (includes chilling and rolling the dough): 2 hours
Cook Time: 15 minutes
Total Time: 2 hours, 15 minutes

Ingredients:
For Cookies:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate, melted and cooled slightly
1/2 cup bittersweet (60-70%) chocolate, melted and cooled slightly
1 egg, room temperature
1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1 tsp. kosher salt
1/4 tsp baking soda

For Filling:
5 ounces vegetable shortening
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed and at room temperature
2 1/2 cups confectioners sugar, sifted
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon peppermint extract
3-4 crushed candy canes, to top

Preparation:
1. In a medium bowl, whisk together the butter and sugar until well combined. Add the chocolate and vanilla and whisk together. Then add the egg and whisk until incorporated.

2. In a separate medium bowl, stir together the flour, cocoa powder, salt, and baking soda. Add the flour mixture into the chocolate mixture, stirring slowly with a wooden spoon or your hands (using my hands is easier for me at this point).

3. Let the dough firm up at room temperature for 30 minutes.

4. Dump dough out onto the counter or another flat surface and gather into one flat disk (just like you would with pie dough). Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.

5. Preheat oven to 350 F. Lay one sheet of plastic wrap down on the counter and place to ball of dough on top. Knead it for a moment or two to soften it to the point where it will allow you to roll it out. Place another sheet of plastic wrap on top of the dough (it should be sandwiched at this point) and roll to about 1/8-inch thickness or 1/4 inch thickness for a thicker cookie. Don't stress too much about these measurements -- this will be a little trial and error and you'll learn to eye the thickness for the kind of cookie you want. If the dough becomes too sticky or difficult to work with, put back in the refrigerator for 10-15 minutes.

6. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and, using a 2-3-inch round cutter, cut out the cookie circles and place them on the sheet. They don’t spread much, so they can be pretty close together.

7. Bake for 10 minutes or until the edges are very slightly darkened—this is tough to tell given their already dark color, but you'll want your cookie to be set but still soft in the center. They firm up when cooled. Cool on the baking sheet for 2 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely before frosting.

8. To make the filling: using a hand blender, beat the butter, vegetable shortening, salt and peppermint extract until smooth. Then add the confectioners sugar slowly in 1/2 cup increments until creamy and until the filling reaches the consistency you like, about one minute. Using a piping bag (or just a good old fashioned spoon), pipe a generous portion of filling onto one completely cooled chocolate cookie, dust with crushed candy canes and cover with another chocolate cookie to make a sandwich.

Photos by Suzanne Husky/Walter Kim

Happy holidays! December has barely begun, but the icicle lights are twinkling from your neighbor's porch, your corner dive has roped the bar mirror with tinsel, and you can't dash into the supermarket for a quart of eggnog without drowning in the Destiny's Child version of "The Little Drummer Boy." Who wouldn't need a drink to get through to New Year's?

These long (and, until the solstice on the 23rd, getting longer) dark nights have one great solace: the hot toddy. Something hot, something sweet, something spiced, something strong: a winter warmer to toast you down to your toes. Such drinks can be made in quantity and set out in a slow-cooker (or crock pot) to stay warm, perfuming your whole house like holiday heaven. Certain ones, like the peppermint hot chocolate and bourbon cider described below, can be made non-alcoholic, with a bottle on the side so guests can spike to taste (or not).

The only drawback? These aren't wild and crazy drinks; a couple rounds of mulled wine and your guests will want only to snuggle up like kittens and take a nice cozy nap in front of the fire. Then again, a little cuddling might be just right at this time of year; why else the velvet pants, silk shirts, and cashmere sweaters, if not for a little negus-fueled petting? If it worked for Mrs. Fezziwig, it can work for you.

Mulled Wine
The reward for freezing through a damp, grey winter in Paris? Hot wine, known as vin chaud, served in small stemmed glasses topped with a slice of orange, aromatically steaming in every corner bar. Whether you call it mulled wine, vin chaud, or gluhwein, it boils down to the same thing: red wine, lightly sweetened and simmered gently with cinnamon, cloves, allspice, and lemon or orange peel, tastingly beautifully of winter.

A few tricks: always use fresh, whole spices (cinnamon sticks, whole allspice berries, whole cloves), since powdered spices can clump up and muddy the drink. (No reason to buy a fancy tin of "mulling spices" either; get them by the inexpensive bagful in the bulk department of your favorite grocery store and combine to taste at home.) Shave off thin curls of citrus peel, colored part only, without the bitter white pith. For the best flavor, make a simple syrup of 1 part water to 1 part sugar (or honey). Bring this to a simmer in a medium pot. When sugar is dissolved, add your spices and peels, and simmer gently for 10-15 minutes. Fill a larger pot with as much decent, robust red wine as you need. (Don't use sour stuff that's been sitting open on the counter for a week, and don't use 2-Buck Chuck; there's not enough sugar and cinnamon in the world to make that taste good.) Add the spice syrup and bring to just under a boil. Let it warm over low heat for 10-15 minutes. Taste for sweetness and balance. Serve topped with thin slices of orange or lemon. Peg each fruit slice with a few cloves.

Negus
A Regency-era drink that crops up in many 18th and 19th century novels, from Jane Austen's Mansfield Park and Charlotte Bronte's Wuthering Heights to Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. Basically, it's a variation on the mulled wine above, using a strong, sweet, fortified wine, usually port, instead regular red wine. The Beagle, a hot spot in New York City's East Village, makes theirs with Madeira (George Washington's favored tipple), updated with star anise. Typically, this would have been heated by plunging a hot poker into the drink. In a large, heavy pot, combine 1 bottle of ruby port or Madeira with sugar to taste (start with 1 1/2 tablespoons and add from there) and the rind and juice of one lemon, and 3 "stars" of star anise. Heat until steaming (but not boiling). Port packs a punch; you'll probably want to thin this with 1 cup very hot water. Taste for balance. Serve topped with thin slices of lemon.

Candy-Cane Hot Cocoa
Is this a cocktail or a dessert? If anyone goes caroling any more, this is the drink you want warming you up before and after all those choruses of Good King Wenceslas. At this time of year, it's also a fun after-meal alternative. By mid-December, everyone's been hitting the cookie parties pretty hard. Save yourself the time and butter and bring out steaming mugs of this for dessert instead. If you're not happy unless you have a kitchen project in hand, make homemade marshmallows; otherwise, just put out a bowl of fresh whipped cream (use Straus Family Creamery's organic cream in the fat little glass bottle: the best.)

Now, however much watery Swiss Miss out of the foil packet may inspire nostalgia for ice-rinks past, do not use cocoa mix to make this. You know what you need to make really delicious hot cocoa? Three things: milk, unsweetened cocoa powder, and sugar. You put these things in a pot. You heat them up. You whisk them around a little until they're smooth and steaming, and there! You did it.

If you want a very rich drink, you can make hot chocolate from (what else?) milk, cream, and chopped chocolate. But honestly, drinking this kind of chocolate can be like scarfing a whole handful of melted truffles. Delicious, yes, but packing a wallop. What you want for a party is a session drink, something you can sip by the mugful without going into cocoa-butter overload.

So, to make good hot cocoa, start with good, unsweetened cocoa powder; I like Droste, Valhrona, or Guittard. (Yes, Hershey's and Nestle's are cheaper and always available, but they're also bland as dust.) Whole milk makes the tastiest cocoa, but if you're using 1% or 2%, you can boost the flavor by using light-brown sugar instead of white. (Skim milk makes a flat-tasting, watery cocoa.) You can add a little grated semi-sweet or bittersweet chocolate for richness, a splash of vanilla extract for extra flavor. If you must use a mix, Ghirardelli's sweet ground chocolate and cocoa is good, if a little oversweet for a grown-up beverage like this. And of course, those who don't imbibe can drink it straight; making it from scratch makes it good enough to drink with nothing more than a marshmallow or cool dollop of cream on top.

How to do it: In a large saucepan over medium heat, whisk together 1 cup water with 1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder and 1 1/4 cups sugar. Whisk vigorously until mixture boils and comes together into a hot-fudgey syrup. Whisk in 1 gallon regular milk. Heat until steaming (don't boil) and taste for sweetness, adding more sugar as necessary. Remove from heat. Add 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract. For non-alcoholic cocoa, add 1 tablespoon peppermint extract, or to taste. For spiked cocoa, add a few gluggs of peppermint schnapps, or just put out the bottle and let guests spike to taste. Pour into mugs and hang a mini-candy cane off the rim. Top with marshmallows or fresh whipped cream.

Bourbon Cider

Do you really need a recipe? Hot or cold apple cider, spiked with good bourbon. If you're serving it cold, add a dash of cinnamon to a saucerful of sugar. Run a halved orange around the rim of each glass, then dunk the rim in cinnamon sugar. Shake the cider and bourbon together (or just pour in and stir) and pour into the rimmed glass.

For mulled bourbon cider, warm up your cider until hot but not boiling. Add a handful of cinnamon sticks and a few peel-on, thin slices of orange. Do not let the cider boil! Pour into mugs and top up with bourbon to taste, putting a cinnamon stick in each mug. For best results, use fresh, refrigerated cider (I love the cider made by Rainbow Orchard in Camino, available at many local farmers' markets), not apple juice or jarred cider.

Wakeup Eggnog

Not every holiday cocktail needs to be warm. What this drink lacks in heat, it more than makes up for in richness. This is the cashmere of holiday drinks: lush, lavish, and posh. Now, egg nog, like fruitcake, has a bad reputation, mostly because the cheap stuff you find in the supermarket is just awful, full of fake flavorings and gunky thickeners. Read the ingredients and you will, rightfully, recoil. You have two options for good nog: make it yourself--not so hard if you've ever made custard--using this eggnog recipe, or Anna Thomas's eggnog recipe, a favorite of erotica writer and cultural critic Susie Bright. Or, buy a few quarts of the pale, lovely, elegant eggnog made by Straus Family Creamery. The ingredients are what you'd use at home: milk, cream, eggs, sugar, nutmeg, all organic, and nothing else.

Whichever recipe you choose, make it with half the amount of rum, bourbon, or whiskey called for, substituting a coffee liqueur like Kahlua for the other half. (Or just put out the Kahlua bottle alongside the bowl and let guests add to taste.) It's the perfect holiday pick-me-up; while the milk, cream, and alcohol relaxes you, the caffeine and sugar perk you up. This is the kind of brunch drink that seems like a great idea at the time, but be warned: it can flatten your guests for the rest of the day. But if you ever needed an excuse for an all-day Christmas movie-marathon ("Herbie doesn't like to make toys!"), a generous supply of this eggnog will supply it. Cheers!

Fruitcake gets a bad rap. You ask anyone from young to old and they’ll turn up their nose, proclaiming that it’s “dry” or “heavy” or that they’re scared of those neon-colored fruits. Well the times have changed and fruitcake, if made well, can be moist, a little bit boozy and incredibly tasty. At least that’s the case at Arizmendi on 9th Avenue in San Francisco.

Happy Arizmendi bakers: Erin Singer, Suet Cheng, Aeri Swendson

While it seems like many of our families avoid fruitcake, it's been around for quite some time. In fact, the name can actually be traced back as far as the Middle Ages with the oldest reference going back to Roman times where they often included pomegranate seeds, pine nuts, and raisins. Since the bread is preserved with high levels of booze, crusaders and hunters were rumored to have carried this type of cake to sustain themselves over long periods of time away from home. All of the neon-colored fruits that folks fear today came much later down the line.

At Arizmendi, you won’t see any of those dried fruits either. Instead, you’ll find small warmly-scented loaves packed with dried fruits and nuts from Rainbow Grocery across town. They use currants, lemon zest, orange zest, raisins, papaya, pineapple, apricots, almonds and cherries along with a smattering of spices like cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice. If you haven’t yet tried it, this is your year. The 9th Avenue location is doing 400 small loaves and they sell out quickly, so make sure to get down there beginning the first week of December to snag yours. They’ll hold until whenever you’re ready to serve it (the brandy functions as a preserver) -- some of the staff actually hang onto their loaves year after year and come in to re-dip them during the annual fruitcake-dipping process.

The fruitcake-making process at Arizmendi

So what’s the secret? The best fruitcakes are started months in advance and dipped in liquor numerous times to allow the flavors to really mature and develop. Arizmendi began making the fruitcakes well over two months ago and they go through a three-dip cycle in brandy. First, the staff spends time cutting up all of the dried fruits, making the dough, and folding it all together. Suet Cheng says, “It’s mostly fruit and just enough batter to hold it altogether." Baker Erin Singer confirms that it’s almost like a scone dough, packed with so many fruits and nuts that it's really barely held together. After all of the dry ingredients are combined, it’s baked and they allow it to cool for 10-20 minutes. While it’s warm they do the first soak in brandy.

Sneaking a taste of Arizmendi's fruitcake

The first soak is the longest, meaning they allow each loaf to hang out for 4-5 minutes in the tub of brandy. Erin says, “they soak it up like crazy the first time around.” The subsequent soakings are for a shorter amount of time, usually 1-2 minutes. After soaking, the bakers wrap the loaves in cheesecloth and plastic wrap and store them for a month. When it’s time to re-dip, they take off the plastic and re-dip with the cheesecloth still on.

I had the chance to try the fruitcake after its last dipping and it was boozier than it will be when you buy it because it was straight out of the brandy. Chatting with the head baker over a cup of coffee and a small slice, I told her how it was the best fruitcake I'd ever had. In fact, I didn't realize fruitcake could be this good. If you could compare the flavor to a color, it’d be the deepest amber imaginable: intensely warm yet simultaneously dark and boozy and packed with chunks of fruit and nuts. And they’re heavy! With each soaking they take on more and more of the liquid making them incredibly moist and dense but in a wonderful-with-coffee way, not a like-a-rock way.

Sure, people do it differently. And it’s been done for hundreds of years which is why, I think, I’m so drawn to fruitcake. The thought that grandmothers and farm hands were dipping fruitcakes in much the same way that I experienced on this sunny San Francisco morning seems important to me. It’s a continuation of a holiday tradition that holds a lot of meaning for some, and little for others. If it’s not part of your cultural or family tradition, I encourage you to make some changes this year. I sure am.

Get Your Fruitcake:
Fruitcakes will go on sale the first week of December and you can call and order one/reserve or just walk in and pick one up. The earlier, the better; they do sell out. Each fruitcake is $14.

Arizmendi Bakery
1331 9th Avenue (between Irving and Judah)
San Francisco, CA 94122
(415)566-3117

Hours:
Tuesday-Friday: 7am-7pm
Saturday-Sunday: 7:30am-6pm
Monday: CLOSED

Occupy Oakland General Strike on November 2, 2011. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

Have you moved your money yet? A lot of imperatives have come out of the Occupy movement of late; this one is both concrete and far-ranging, something that anyone can do.

What does it mean? It started with a call to action for people to pull their money and investments out of the big banks, and put them into smaller, locally-owned and locally-responsible credit unions and community banks. It's like voting; the amount in my tiny checking and savings accounts means nothing to MegaBankUSA, but add my numbers to thousands and thousands of others, and suddenly a bank could feel some impact.

That's just one part. Like the concept of eating locally, which started with food miles and then grew into a much larger movement, even revolution, about how and what we eat, the idea of "moving your money" can be applied in so many ways.

And it's not limited to how or where you spend your actual cash. On the style blog Ironing Board Collective, my friend, writer and health coach Sara Seinberg, has posted a great Move Your Money gift guide, with suggestions for everything from art-museum memberships to shared activities and bartered services. Her list, and the fact that right now, like so many of us, I am luckily rich in friends, family, and good intentions, and not-so-rich in disposable income, have got me thinking even more about value this time of year. About surplus. About what we use to get what we need, and how we can support the needs of others--friends, family, your community, your neighborhood and beyond. This holiday season, what do you have that can bring delight and deliciousness to those you love, while keeping your money out of the coffers of the big corporations?

How about chocolate? There are lots of locally-made chocolate treats available to sweeten your holidays. Or you can make your own with this easy chocolate truffle recipe. Dandelion's bean-to-bar chocolate store will be opening in San Francisco next month or early next year; until then, find them at local farmers' markets, including the Mission Community Market and the Noe Valley Farmers' Market.

With the explosion of books, classes, and blogs dedicated to food preservation for fun (or profit), it's easy to spend a little time whipping up a gift batch of something, especially if you turn the simmering or brewing into an all-afternoon stir-and-gossip session. What do you like best to make? It's a little late in the season to make jam, but there's always apple butter, pear butter, slow-roasted quince paste (so tasty with cheese), Meyer lemon marmalade or tangy lemon chutney. WorkshopSF has classes in beer-making, tea-blending, cheese-making, even vintage apron sewing coming up in December; take one yourself, or take a friend along.

Does everyone rave about your ramen, your cranberry bread, your caramel apple pie? Do you want to share your mom's recipes with everyone who loves her? There are dozens of print-on-demand services that let you turn those scribbled-on recipe cards into a surprisingly chic and stylish personal cookbook. Pop-up holiday markets are also a good place to find quirkily perfect host/ess gifts made by your friends and neighbors. On Dec. 9, La Cocina is holding its 3rd Annual Gift Bazaar, featuring unique products developed in La Cocina's incubator kitchen in the Mission.

Or, depending on what you have to spare, you can give money, time, or expertise to organizations who redistribute the wealth across the Bay Area's tables. Did one (or ten) of your Facebook friends and Twitter followers post Mary Risley's hysterically practical YouTube video, Just Put the F*cking Turkey in the Oven? Now, with over 100,000 hits, let's hope she can make the follow-up, Just Give Your F*cking Leftovers to Food Runners.

Risley isn't just a cooking teacher, she's the founder of Food Runners, which moves thousands of pounds of fresh, useful leftover food from restaurants, grocery stores, and catering businesses into the kitchens of shelters, low-income senior and youth programs, and other organizations that serve the needy. Mary talks about Food Runners on this episode of Food & Wine This Week in Northern California.

Tomato pickers in Immokalee, Florida. Photo: Scott Robertson

As the nation's annual food fest approaches, let's take a moment to express gratitude for farmworkers, the hard-working field hands who grow and harvest the abundance we're about to eat on Thanksgiving.

It's so easy in the food-obsessed Bay Area to focus on whether our D.I.Y., made-from-scratch meals are perfect or if the raw ingredients of our culinary creations have a pristine pedigree.

But enough food narcissism already: let's talk about the plight of the people who make this holiday possible.

Some food for thought:
• Check out the videos from the recent conference TedxFruitvale: Harvesting Change hosted by the foundation wing of the sustainable-food focused Bon Appétit Management Company (BAMCO). The event, held at Mills College in Oakland, revealed in sharp relief and from first-hand accounts the back-breaking labor of those in the fields, many of whom are still exposed to life-threatening pesticides and labor in shocking conditions. But this day-long event was anything but a downer: The program also highlighted farmworker success stories and alternative ownership models to BigAg.

  The well-curated program (hat tip to BAMCO's Maisie Greenawalt, Bonnie Powell, Haven Bourque and crew) featured a diverse group of speakers that went well beyond the usual suspects who typically wax on at such meet ups -- along with great food, good music, and an inclusive vibe. There were breast-feeding activists and Spanish-speaking farmhands and everyone found a place on the stage and at the table.

  Recurring themes from the day: Hard work, determination in the face of adversity, and the importance of family ties, which seems fitting to mention in a Thanksgiving post. Local organic farmers' market regular Maria Catalán, one of the first Latina farm owners in the country, talked about giving back to her community and the pleasures of working with her children, as did Napa grape grower and wine maker Amelia Ceja.

  Adelfo Antonio of Swanton Berry Farm recounted the benefits of working on a unionized organic farm (one with panoramic ocean views, no less). Former farmworker, José Gutierrez, who once toiled alongside his father in the fields now studies agromedicine, so that workers like his dad can have a healthier life. Reporter Roberto Romano simply let his film La Cosecha/The Harvest, which chronicles the plight of three teenage migrant workers, speak for itself.

• Stay tuned for the pending posting of the Edible Education 101 lecture that included Fast Food Nation author Eric Schlosser. Not one to mince words, Schlosser says simply that racism is at the heart of the long history of exploitation and abuse that characterizes farmworkers' struggles. He urges us all to stop being consumers, start being citizens, and take some personal responsibility for what we eat.

  Also speaking that evening, the man Schlosser refers to as the next Cesar Chavez, Lucas Benitez, co-founder of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW), an organized group of tomato pickers from Florida who have made great strides in improving simply horrendous living and working conditions for produce pickers. (A detailed account of the squalor, abuse, and danger these workers encounter can be found in Tomatoland by Barry Estabrook, who first brought national attention to this issue in a James Beard award-winning story for the late Gourmet magazine.)

  In the past decade, the CIW's widely cited Campaign For Fair Food has forced major fast food restaurants, food service companies, and tomato growers to agree to a pay increase for workers and a code of conduct that recognizes workers' rights. (Still to come to the table: grocery store chains such as Kroger, Publix, Walmart, and Trader Joe's, see below.) The Oakland-based Just Harvest USA is a CIW partner and works on fair food campaigns close to home.

• Take action: Get to know your local farmers. Visit your favorite farms (a green tour guide has been amazed to discover how many people -- Bay Area residents no less -- have never set foot on a farm.)

  Even heavy hitters like farmer friend Alice Waters, who herself had a recent epiphany about the plight of farmworkers, are showing support for farmworkers' struggles. Waters sent snacks from Chez Panisse to feed protesters at the recent Trader Joe's rally (covered on Bay Area Bites).


Protest march to Trader Joe's for farmworker justice in Oakland. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

• Try farming: Got what it takes to harvest in the heat under difficult conditions for low pay and no benefits? The United Farm Workers invites American citizens who think immigrant and undocumented farm workers are stealing all the good jobs to sign up for field work as part of their Take Our Jobs campaign, which caught the attention of The Colbert Report, among others, last year.

Have ideas about how to stay connected to farmworkers and their concerns? Bring 'em on below.

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving.

Not too far back in the past a vegan had very few options for a store-bought holiday main dish outside of a Tofurkey or for recipes beyond a bland grain-stuffed squash. Boy, have times changed! Vegan food companies and vegan foodies have become incredibly creative in inventing "turkey replacements." I've usually gone store-bought in the past, but this year I just can't resist making Karina Allrich's incredibly flavorful Vegetarian Garden Loaf (with a few twists added), not only because it's incredibly delicious, but also because my family includes two vegans, one vegetarian, and a celiac. Karina is a cookbook author and creator of the gluten-free blog, gluten-free goddess, where she has lots and lots of vegetarian and vegan recipes, some inspired by her pre-celiac cookbook, Recipes from a Vegetarian Goddess.

However, if you are still on the lookout for something a little less maintenance, check out this list of delectable store-bought options to make your holiday table thoroughly Tofurkey-less:
• Gardein's Savory Stuffed Turk'y
• Field Roast Grain Meat Co.'s Stuffed Celebration Roast
• Field Roast Grain Meat Co.'s Hazelnut Cranberry Roast En Croute
• Vegetarian Plus' Vegan Whole Turkey (Here's a review of it on vegansaurus.)

Vegan (and Gluten-Free) Garden Loaf with Cranberry-Maple Glaze
(Based on Karina Allrich's Vegetarian Garden Loaf with Maple Apricot Glaze from gluten-free goddess, altered with permission from Karina Allrich.)

Makes: 1 loaf/6 slices
Prep Time: 30 minutes
Cook Time: 30 minutes
Total Time: 60 minutes

Ingredients:
Extra virgin olive oil
1 cup chopped onion- red or sweet
2 heaping cups chopped Baby Bella or Cremini mushrooms
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
5 cups loosely packed baby spinach leaves
Sea salt and ground pepper

1 cup cooked quinoa
1 cup toasted gluten-free bread or waffle crumbs (I used Vans Wheat/Gluten Free Waffles, which I toasted and then made into crumbs in my food processor.)
2 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons molasses
1 tablespoon good olive oil
1 tablespoon dried Italian herb mix -- basil, thyme, oregano, parsley, marjoram
1 teaspoon fresh minced rosemary
3-4 scallions sliced thin
1 baked orange sweet potato or yam, peeled and diced (take it out before it's cooked too much or too soft)

Preparation:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line the bottom of a glass loaf pan with a piece of parchment paper that extends up above the longer sides. When the loaf has baked, and set a bit, you will be able to lift out the loaf in one whole piece.

Heat the olive oil in a skillet and cook the onion until it is translucent. Add the mushrooms and garlic; stir until softened. Add the balsamic vinegar and stir. Add the spinach. Season with sea salt and ground pepper. Stir and cook down until the mixture is soft -- about seven minutes or so.

Spoon the skillet vegetables into a food processor and pulse to make a grainy mixture. Don't over-process it -- you want some texture.

Place the mixture into a large bowl. Add the cooked quinoa, gluten-free breadcrumbs, ketchup, molasses, and olive oil and stir to combine. Add in your dried herbs, rosemary, scallions, and mix to distribute. You want a moist mixture that sticks together when you press it with a spoon. If you need more ketchup to hold it together, add it now, maybe a tablespoon.

Add in the diced sweet potato and fold in gently. At this point, taste the mixture and see if you need to add salt and pepper.

Spoon the loaf mixture into the oiled loaf pan and shape it with moist fingers, pressing it tight into the pan. Smooth the top.

Make your glaze.

Combine:

1/4 cup jellied cranberry sauce
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon maple syrup
A sprinkle of cinnamon and cumin
Hot red chili flakes, to taste

(I made two batches of this to have extra as a drizzle for individual slices of the loaf.)

Pour the glaze all over the top of the loaf.

Tent loosely with a piece of foil. Bake in the center of a preheated oven until heated through and the edges of the glaze are bubbling—about 30 minutes.

Allow the loaf to set for ten minutes, tented with foil. This helps it to settle, and makes it easier to slice. Slice into portions (the loaf yields about 6 slices) and lift out with a thin spatula. Enjoy!

How do you conceptualize your Thanksgiving practice? Do you loll in the warm gravy-filled bathtub of tradition, splashing between the green bean casserole and the marshmallow-topped yams? Do you light out for the territories with Thai-spiced vegan pumpkin soup? Do you skip the whole thing, go out for dim sum, then roast a turkey on Friday just for the joy of standing in front of the fridge, making sandwiches, picking at leftovers or frying up hash? Why Brussels sprouts? And how?

At times like these, a cookbook, an app, the Food Network, even Mark Bittman is not enough. For inspiration, for solace, for getting you through your kitchen's long dark night of the soul, only poetry will do. (Philosophy, the big gun typically aimed at life's meatier questions, is distressingly silent on crucial issues like do I brine or do I fry?) For all the koan-like beauty of his work, poet Wallace Stevens never made the most obvious suggestion to readers of Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, one known to every kid since their days of playground double-Dutch: get yourself eleven more birds, mister, and you got yourself a pie.

Not that all poets should bake pies, but, as Grace Paley has pointed out, it's a valid occasional alternative, even for a poet. As Paley writes,

I was going to write a poem
I made a pie instead
...
everybody will like this pie
it will have apples and cranberries
dried apricots in it many friends
will say why in the world did you
make only one

this doesn't happen with poems

So, pace Mr. Stevens, we offer 13 Ways of Looking at a Brussels Sprout, our poem of recipes for you and your pre-holiday kitchen.

I
Among twenty winter squashes
The only moving thing
Was the cleaver heading towards your fingers.

Aida Mollencamp, CHOW, How to Cut Hard Squash

II
I was of three minds
Like a refrigerator
In which there are three slaws.

Mark Bittman, New York Times, Slaws Eight Ways

III
The pureed pumpkin whirled in the coconut milk.
It was a small part of the dairy-free, gluten-free pantomime.

Pim Techamuanvivit, Chez Pim, Pumpkin Panna Cotta

IV
A man and a woman
Are hungry.
A man and a woman and a Brussels sprout salad
Are happy.

Heidi Swanson, 101 Cookbooks, Shredded Brussels Sprouts & Apples

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of chestnuts
Or the beauty of butter.
The pie coming out of the oven,
Or pie the morning after.

Bay Area Bites, KQED, Chestnut Soup for the Holidays
Bay Area Bites, KQED, Sweet Potato Pie

VI
Pies filled the long window
With buttery shards.
The shadow of you on your bicycle
Crossed it, to and fro, wishing you had pre-ordered your Thanksgiving dessert.
The mood
Traced on the glass
Sugared with longing.

Bay Area Bites, KQED, Food Secrets of Mission Pie’s Karen Heisler and Krystin Rubin
Bay Area Bites, KQED, A Day with 3 Babes’ Bakeshop

VII
O vegan teens of Haight Street,
Why do you imagine golden tofurkys?
Do you not see how the bacon
Whispers to the Brussels sprouts
Of the Whole Foods around you?

Chef Zac Palaccio, New York Times, Fatty ‘Cue Brussels Sprouts
Chef Erik Cosselmon, 7x7, Kokkari's Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Bacon and Lemon

VIII
I know Burning Man
And its lurid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That fried onions in a can are involved
In what I know.

Isa Chandra Moskowitz, Post Punk Kitchen, Vegan Green Bean-Mushroom Casserole
Tori Richie, Tuesday Recipe, Green Beans with Brown Butter and Lemon

IX
When the Brussels sprout rolled under the table,
It came out fuzzied in cat hair
The five-second rule, debatable.

Bay Area Bites, KQED, Food Safety on Thanksgiving

X
At the sight of Brussels sprout leaves
Wilting in a skillet with red grapes and bacon
Even the ennui’d of brassicas
Would cry out sharply.

Chef Rene Ortiz, SF Chronicle, La Condesa's Coles de Brussels

XI
He rode over to the coast
In a Zipcar Mini.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The false chanterelles
For chanterelles.

Iso Rabins, Forage SF, Wild Mushroom Box

XII
The lard is melting
the pigs must be flying.

Jessica Prentice, Edible East Bay, Cream of Celery Root Soup with Leeks and Lard
Sara Seinberg, Seinberg Holistic Health Coaching, Spicy Cauliflower and Japanese Sweet Potato Soup

XIII
It was dinnertime all afternoon.
The dishwasher was running.
And it was going to run.

(with thanks to Amy Rosenbaum Clark)

Greg La Follette. Photo: La Follette Wines.

Greg La Follette ‘listens’ to his wines and that may be why they ‘speak’ to some of us. Earlier this year I tried a La Follette Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir and was hooked. It was a lovely wine with great acidity and subtle tastes of raspberries and spice. I later found out the winemaker was a kind and quirky scientist, with a reverence for the land and a knack for the bagpipes. With his chatty personality, and jamming wines, La Follette could easily be one of those rock star winemakers but he may be too humble for the limelight.

La Follette started at Beaulieu Vineyards in 1991 and spent time overseas as a wine consultant. His work included being a consultant at Yarra Ridge in Australia. Back in California he made a name for himself at Flowers and then at Tandem wines. Last year La Follette went out on his own to make cool climate, Burgundian style, Sonoma Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays. I recently found a few reasonably priced La Follette Pinots at Bottle Barn in Sebastopol and plan on breaking them out for Thanksgiving.

Besides eavesdropping on his fermentations, La Follette generally avoids commercial yeasts, gravitates toward unconventional equipment built by hand using pieces from salvage yards, and experiments with practices such as fluff racking.

Greg La Follette was born in Iceland. His wife came to the U.S. from Germany and together they have six children. I recently had a chance to talk with La Follette at his shared winemaking facility in Sebastopol.

How do you describe your style of winemaking?

I see myself as more of a translator of the land rather than a dictator or someone who just wants to do everything in a prescribed way. I let the land take the lead on things. I have a strong collaboration with growers and am on call 24/7 with them. A lot of winemakers don't have the plant biology training that I do. Nowadays many more winemakers are realizing that wine is best made in the vineyard and so winemakers are getting more viticulture training.

Why do you say you practice unsafe winemaking?

Well, we take risks. Safe winemaking is when you inoculate something, put in plenty of sulpher dioxide to knock out the bad guys, you put it at a temperature where its going to go through safely, you follow a formula. For us, frequently our fermentations don't finish until June, the following year from harvest, which adds layers of richness. If you like the taste of forest floor and mushrooms in your pinot, that’s a compound produced by grapes and it's brought forward when you provide oxygen at just the right time. It’s also about using your body, I have had broken ribs, torn rotator cuffs, concussions and other injuries. Our style of winemaking is a full contact sport.

Speaking of dialogues with your wines, why do you listen to your fermentations?

I am listening for the activity in the wine. That is a good clue for us to tell when we need to do things like add sulphur dioxide. Most winemakers, when the malolactic is done they say, “ok, lets add the sulphur dioxide now." And I say, “no, let's wait until they quiet down.” I am really focused on mouth feel, which means getting away from the hardness. By the way, the secondary fermentation has a different sound than the primary fermentation. But you have to spend the time listening, it's not that different than listening to your spouse or your kids. It makes for better relationships.

How do you describe mouthfeel?

It’s what I focused on when I was getting my Masters at U.C. Davis. Mouthfeel is how all the parts in the wine work together. It’s what brings pleasure to your mouth. They are broken down into three parts, entry, mid-palate and late palate. You have to tie together the whole union of the wine.

You follow some natural winemaking techniques which include using native yeasts and little filtration. What do you think of this trend which has received so much buzz?

Well, I think of minimalist interventions. But here is the problem, there is less manipulation with the more commercial style of winemaking. We are playing with our wines all of the time. We really and truly live the wine and are on top of our fermentations, literally, several times a day, smelling, looking, tasting.

La Follette with assistant winemaker Simone Sequeria. Photo: La Follette Wines.

How did you choose Pinot Noir as your grape, it is so challenging to make.

I like introducing people to what Pinot Noir can do. It can just love and caress your tongue. I finally had to surrender to it and say "take me I'm yours." Pinot is great to make if you have Chardonnay to give you a rudder of sanity. I wanted it to have weight and structure but be light and have it at a price point where we can make friends. It's a new label so that's important. (La Follette’s wines range from $29.99 to $49.99).

La Follette’s talent as a Pinot Noir maker may never have come to fruition had he not reached the conclusion that his first love, playing the bagpipes, was not a practical career. His dream as a teenager did not match his parents' career expectations of him. La Follette saved his milk money to pay, secretly, for lessons and eventually became a ship's piper on the Queen Mary. Now the bagpipes are a hobby to wind down from winemaking.

Since I have Scottish ancestry I assumed the bagpipes might be something I could pick up, after all, I can blow a lot of hot air. But I was quickly humbled after one short lesson from La Follette.

You can meet Greg La Follette and check out his wines at the “In the Cellar with Greg” series. The next one is scheduled for Friday, December 2. For more information you can go to "events" on his website.

This event is one in an occasional series on California winemakers.

La Follette Wines
4900 West Dry Creek Road
Healdsburg, California 95448
Phone: 707.395.3902
info@lafollettewines.com
Facebook: La Follette Wines

Mitch Rosenthal. Photo credit: Paige Green © 2011

Mitch Rosenthal is the chef and owner of three of San Francisco's most beloved restaurants, Town Hall, Salt House, and Anchor & Hope, as well as Irving Street Kitchen in Portland, Oregon. Mitch hails from Edison, New Jersey, and was a chef at the Four Seasons in New York City, Wolfgang Puck’s Postrio in San Francisco, and Paul Prudhomme’s K-Paul’s in New Orleans. Through the years and through many kitchens, Mitch developed an adventurous philosophy not bound to a single cuisine, blending Jewish deli roots with Southern-inspired comfort food, updated regional favorites and urban sophistication.

The recipes for many of his favorite dishes appear in his newly published cookbook, Cooking My Way Back Home (2011, Ten Speed Press), and reflect the Southern exuberance of Town Hall, the contemporary approach of Salt House, and the focus on fresh seafood of Anchor & Hope. The book draws upon Mitch’s 35 years of restaurant experience but is geared toward the home chef—he tested every single recipe in his own home kitchen. Readers can cook up one of the book’s recipes, the Cheesy Rosti Potato Cake, at the end of this piece. Mitch lives in Mill Valley with his wife, Mary, and two children, Eli and Athena.

What do you have planned for Thanksgiving?

We’re having 30 people over at our house, and the menu will probably be a little different this year. We’re thinking of doing the turkey porchetta style: boneless, rolled up with lots of traditional spices, and roasted. This way, we’ll have more time to do other things -- maybe a seafood paella. Both are untraditional for us, we’ve never done this before. Since we’re having a lot of people over and have a pretty small house, we can cook the paella outside over the grill and just roast the porchetta. The porchetta will take less time to cook and be much easier to carve than a traditional turkey. We’re still discussing sides, as the flavors from the fennel and other spices used on the porchetta will change what will go with it. For example, we’ll probably skip the cranberry sauce and use something like Italian mustard fruits instead. But my wife Mary will still make her apple-sausage stuffing, as she does every year.

Please tell the story of closing Salt House and using it for a special Thanksgiving...

It was a disaster. Fun, but a disaster. Originally it was supposed to be a dinner for close friends and family, but then we had people inviting others and suddenly there were about 70 people at dinner. We had to put all of our tables in the restaurant together to fit everyone. The menu was very traditional: roast turkey with all the trimmings, Mary’s apple-sausage stuffing, and cranberry sauce. We did have jambalaya, though, and my brother Steve made his chopped liver, which he does every year. We had a lot of wine. It was fun, but there’s a point when you’re cooking for a group where you start to feel like the hired help instead of the host. I never got to sit down. We had a good time, but it was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Any dishes that have special meaning?

The chopped chicken liver that my brother makes every year is our grandmother’s recipe. It’s in the cookbook. And Mary cooks a lot of recipes that were handed down -- her apple-sausage stuffing is from her mother. We also serve latkes with smoked salmon at Thanksgiving as an hors d’oeuvre, which I learned from Tom Plajanis, the chef at the Jewish deli I worked at in New Jersey. The latke recipe is in the cookbook as well.

How is the book tour going?

The book tour really just started, but I’m always surprised by how many people show up. The biggest surprise so far was probably earlier this month at Powell’s Books in Portland, which was my first big talk during a book signing. I was really nervous, but it was great -- I was able to go on for over an hour talking and had to cut myself off. It’s so easy to talk about food and the stories around it. The other big surprise has been all of the emails I’m getting from long-lost friends, lots from the East Coast. Ever since the cookbook was published, I’m hearing from some great old friends that I haven’t talked to in years.

How did your cookbook come about?

Honestly, I was pushed into writing a cookbook. Elisabeth Prueitt and Chad Robertson of Tartine pushed me into it -- they’ve been bugging me for years. The funny thing is that’s how I got into the restaurant business: my mother pushed me into it.

One of the biggest surprises to me while writing the cookbook was how little it affected my marriage. With Mary being a chef, we got into very few fights while testing recipes at home -- basically I just let her be the boss. The big thing about testing recipes at home was that it brought me closer to the overall experience of cooking at home, which was a first. I’ve spent my life cooking in restaurant kitchens, and cooking out of my house brought me closer to the home cook. But I’m hoping that the book will do the opposite for the home chef, giving people the skills for more restaurant-level cooking.

What are you favorite off-night food & drink spots?

The reality is that I don’t go out that often, but when I do, I love R&G Lounge for their salt and pepper fried crab. Or the original Shalimar restaurant in the Tenderloin, for their lamb and spinach stew.

Favorite date night spots?

We like to visit Redd, a friend’s restaurant, in Yountville for special occasions, and have actually been to Aziza a few times in the last couple of months. They have these great vegetable spreads made with charred eggplant and yogurt dill. I had calamari with a saffron sauce that was amazing.

What is your favorite meal to have with friends and/or family?

When I go out to eat we usually go out with my family. We love Tony’s Pizza Napoletana. I always get the Jersey Original, and we always order the meatballs -- they’re amazing. Our new favorite place to eat out as a family is Super Duper burgers. I get the Double. We also love Yank Sing for any of their dumplings -- my kids go crazy there.

Mitch Rosenthal. Photo: Paige Green

Guiltiest food pleasure?

I love it and it’s gross: a Jersey Taylor pork roll. The way they’re made is very specific. It’s pork on a Kaiser roll, topped with fried egg, ketchup and American cheese. You only ever see them in Jersey. They’re so bad for you that I rarely eat them anymore, but last time I was in Jersey I had one.

How did you and your wife meet?

Mary worked for me in the kitchen at Postrio. The longer story is that she went on to become chef at the Liberty Café, but we had a mutual friend, Robin, who cooked with us and stayed on in the kitchen after Mary left. Robin thought that Mary and I would make a great couple and told Mary that I kept asking about her, all the while telling me that Mary was asking about me. None of this was true, but she ended up setting us up on a date. True story.

Tell us about your kids? Do they have favorite foods?

My son Eli is 12 and my daughter Athena is 8. Eli’s favorite food is pizza. Athena is a big fan of any soup, especially brothy soup. When they come to Town Hall, Eli has the BBQ shrimp. Athena has a broader palate, and loves ribs, fried chicken and meatballs.

Any advice for cooks during the holidays?

Test dishes you’ve never made before. Like with the Thanksgiving turkey porchetta, which is something we’ve never done, I’m not going to wait until the day-of to figure out the details. Look through what you’re planning to cook and see what you can prepare a day or two early so you’re not cooking everything all at once. Start early, and have a cocktail. Or a beer. And invite people that you like.

Recipe: Cheesy Rösti Potato Cake with Roasted Garlic and Thyme

Serves 6 to 8

2 heads garlic
1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
3 large russet potatoes
4 ounces fontina cheese, grated
1 ounce Parmesan cheese, grated
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350°F.
to roast the garlic, cut the top off of each head of garlic, about 1/8 of an inch to expose the cloves. Put in a shallow pan and drizzle a tablespoon of the olive oil over each, season with salt and pepper. Cover the pan with foil and roast in the oven until cloves are soft and creamy, about 45 minutes to an hour. When done, and cool enough to handle, squeeze the cloves from their papery skin and set aside.

to steam the potatoes, place a collapsible metal vegetable steamer basket in a large heavy-bottomed pot with an inch of water. Bring the water to a boil, add the whole, unpeeled potatoes and steam for 16 minutes. Set the potatoes aside to cool.

It is important that the potatoes are completely cool before continuing. When they are, peel the potatoes and grate on the largest hole of a box grater and season with salt and pepper.

In a bowl, toss together the grated fontina and Parmesan and set aside.

to make the rösti, heat one-half of the oil in a heavy-bottomed frying pan over medium heat. Add half of the grated potatoes and distribute them evenly, pushing them down with the spatula and shaping them to the form of the pan. Next layer the roasted garlic cloves evenly on top of the potatoes. Then, layer the grated cheese over the garlic and potatoes in an even circle, leaving about 1/4 inch from the edge of the pan. Pack the cheese down with the spatula, and then sprinkle with the chopped thyme, and cover with the remaining half of the grated potatoes, making sure to cover the garlic and cheese completely and evenly. Pack it down and cook for 5 to 7 minutes, or until the potatoes are crispy and golden brown. When ready, turn the rösti over. This can be accomplished using either a spatula, a quick flick of the wrist, or by turning it out onto a plate, and then back into the pan. After it has been flipped, cook for 5 more minutes, then slip the pan into the oven for another 5 minutes. Slice and serve immediately.

“Reprinted with permission from Cooking My Way Back Home: Recipes from San Francisco’s Town Hall, Anchor & Hope, and Salt House by Mitchell Rosenthal, copyright © 2011. Published by Ten Speed Press, a division of Random House, Inc.”

Ingredients for Orange and Ginger Spiced Cranberry Sauce

Thanksgiving countdown has officially begun, and for the first time ever, I'm making the entire dinner on my own. Eeek. There are so many things I want to make. And there are expectations, you know. A juicy, golden, magnificent bird…stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, green beans, some more obligatory vegetables, pie, pie, pie…oh yeah, and prime rib (because that is how my family rolls).

If I'm going to pull this off I know it's going to take some planning ahead. Luckily, Melissa Clark answered my prayers with this super helpful Seven-Day Plan for Thanksgiving. With this game plan by my side, I am actually starting to think I won't be a hot mess come Turkey Day.

Cranberries

First up on my list of make-ahead dishes is Cranberry Sauce. Homemade cranberry sauce is crazy easy to make. I kid you not, it is stone cold simple. Once you try it, I promise you will never buy the weird canned stuff again.

A few years ago I experimented with this recipe for Cranberry Jalapeno Relish with Lime and Cilantro. If you're looking for not-yo-momma's-cranberry-sauce, give this zesty little one a try. It's got kick and is totally different. This year, however, I wanted to go with something more traditional…but not boring.

Ta-daa! This Orange and Ginger Spiced Cranberry Sauce came out exactly as I had hoped. The fragrance of the orange zest and orange juice complements the cranberries beautifully, and the warmth of the ginger, cinnamon, and cloves tones down the tartness of the sauce and spices it up a touch, while making your entire kitchen smell like the holidays!

Ok, are you ready for how easy this is to make?

Cranberries pulsed to a coarse chop

Step 1: Coarsely chop up the cranberries in a food processor. If you don't have a food processor, or prefer a chunkier cranberry sauce, you can keep the cranberries whole. I like my cranberry sauce to have more of a jammy consistency so into the food pro they go.

Step 2: Dump all the ingredients into a saucepan and let simmer for about 20 minutes.

That's it! You're done. Really. See? This whole Thanksgiving Feast thing is going to be totally manageable…

Orange and Ginger Spiced Cranberry Sauce

Orange and Ginger Spiced Cranberry Sauce Recipe
Homemade cranberry sauce is crazy easy to make. I mean it. It is stone cold simple. Once you try it, I promise you will never buy the weird canned stuff again. This cranberry sauce elevates the traditional version with the addition of fragrant orange zest and juice, ginger, and warm spices.

Makes: 2 cups

Prep Time: 5 minutes
Cook Time: 20 minutes
Total Time: 25 minutes

Ingredients:
12 ounces fresh cranberries
1 cup brown sugar
½ cup fresh orange juice
Zest of 1 orange
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

Preparation:

1. Pulse the cranberries in a food processor until coarsely chopped. Be careful not to over process because you don't want the berries pureed. If you don't have a food processor, you can opt for a chunkier cranberry sauce and just use the cranberries whole.

2. Add all the ingredients to saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a simmer. Lower heat a bit to keep it at a nice simmer for about 20 minutes, until the cranberries have softened and the liquid has reduced to create a thick compote. If you are using whole cranberries, you'll hear them pop a bit -- it's ok, that's what they do. Cool before serving.

(Make-ahead note: Can be made days ahead before serving, I actually think it is even better that way. Keep refrigerated in an air-tight container and either warm up or bring to room temperature before serving.)