Pumpkin for Christmas: who knew? My Midwestern pals, that's who. Putting together two back-to-back holiday parties for my best friend, who cherishes her Minnesotan roots, I was surprised that she put pumpkin cake, made in a Bundt pan, of course, on the top of her list of must-have treats for the table. She was right: big smiles lit up the faces of the guests who hailed from Chicago and Minneapolis when they spied the cinnamon-brown Bundt. "Pumpkin cake for Christmas! I was just thinking about that," said one. "With whipped cream, of course," agreed another.

It makes sense, though: such a cake is dense and spicy, redolent of all the fragrant holiday spices that perfume everything from gingersnaps to mulled cider and hot wine this time of year. It's easy to throw together, since a couple cans of pumpkin are probably already in the cabinet, souvenirs of Thanksgiving's pie-minded supermarket stock-up. (A recent report found that 20% of Americans always have canned pumpkin on hand in their pantries. Having poked around in a lot of home kitchens, though, I would guess that most of that pumpkin was bought in 1993, forgotten, and never moved or dusted since.) If not, there's a plethora of gorgeous fresh winter squash out there, ready to be roasted and mashed.

(The nomenclature of pumpkin bread aside, I've found that butternut squash gives the most consistently full-flavored results, and cranking your freshly roasted squash through a food mill turns any stringy chunks into a velvety puree.)

The pumpkin cake I made for last week's holiday party was a basic buttery-cinnamony recipe originally published in Gourmet. It was light and moist, thanks to the pumpkin and buttermilk. I added powdered ginger, fresh nutmeg, and a pinch of cloves to the mix; having just cinnamon and allspice is like the Brady Brunch without Cindy, Jan, or Alice.

Turns out I wasn't the only one thinking about pumpkin at this time of year. Talking to my old pal Jennifer Joseph, poet, founder and publisher of the excellent Manic D Press, and Bernal baker par excellence, I got the inside scoop on the pumpkin cake she made last week, which was devoured, down to the crumbs in less than two days by her husband and daughter. Made with whole-wheat pastry flour, fresh cranberries, walnuts, chocolate chips, and pumpkin, it was, she said, "secretly good for you," and we all know chocolate is a health food, right?

It also looks particularly bright and festive, which meant it wasn't too much of a jump to take it from afternoon cake to morning bread. I've cut back the sugar a little, subbing in apple juice (or cider) for the water in Jen's original recipe so as to add a little more natural sweetness and flavor. Served warm, this bread is lovely on its own, or spread with a little whipped cream cheese.

Happy holidays!

Secretly Good for You Pumpkin Breakfast Bread
Fresh cranberries add a nice tanginess to this sweet bread. Stock up on cranberries when you find them in late autumn; they freeze beautifully and don't need to be thawed before using. In a pinch, you can use dried cranberries, but since they're already sweetened, they won't add as much contrast to the finished loaf.

Yield: 1 loaf
Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 50-60 minues
Total Time: 1 hour, 10-20 minutes

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice (see note, below)
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 cup pumpkin puree
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup canola oil, melted butter, or melted coconut oil
1/4 cup apple juice
2 tbsp molasses
1/2 cup chopped fresh cranberries
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/2 cup dark or white chocolate chips, optional

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a loaf pan or metal or Pyrex ring mold.

2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, spices, baking soda, and salt.

3. In a medium bowl, beat eggs, sugar, pumpkin, oil, apple juice, and molasses together.

4. Stir pumpkin mixture into flour mixture, stopping when just mixed. Gently stir in cranberries, walnuts, and chocolate chips, if using. Spoon into prepared pan.

5. Bake 50-60 minutes for a loaf pan, ring mold 40-50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Note: Pumpkin pie spice, sometimes called apple pie spice, is a blend of commonly used baking spices, usually including cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, and/or cloves. For this recipe, you can substitute 3/4 tsp cinnamon, 1/4 tsp freshly ground nutmeg, 1/4 tsp ginger, and 1/4 tsp ground cloves or allspice.

At Christmastime in Hungary, there are two sweets that are traditionally found in every household. Szaloncukor is one: a chocolate candy most often filled with fondant, marzipan, or jelly (my favorite!) wrapped in white fringy tissue and bright shiny foil, strung with thread, and hung on the tree. The other is beigli, a rolled pastry, filled with either poppy seed or walnut filling (usually both varieties are made at once). My mom used to make beigli every Christmas when my brother and I were kids. She'd pull out a tattered cookbook that she bought with my dad when they were still dating from which she got all her recipes. According to her, it is the perfect recipe (my brother and I, and our bellies, agree!). So, she helped me with this veganized version, referencing her old cookbook and helping me think of the best vegan substitutes to incorporate. I created my own recipe melding her notes, and a few recipes I found online that incorporate the most traditional ingredients (from Chanita Harel's Mom's Recipes and More: Israeli Food Blog and from a recipe from a traditional cookbook called the Innes Mester, posted on the King Arthur Flour community forum by "janiebakes.")

Recipe: Beigli

Ingredients:
For the dough
500 gr flour
200 gr vegan butter, softened (I used Earth Balance)
3 portions of prepared Ener-G Egg Replacer equal to 3 eggs
1 packet dry active yeast
1/3 cup lukewarm vegan milk (I used almond)
1 Tablespoon sugar
2/3 cup vegan sour cream
pinch of salt

Walnut Filling
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups vegan milk (I used almond)
2 1/2 cups ground walnuts (I use a rotary cheese grater, which is what's used in Hungary. It grinds the walnuts leaving them light and fluffy, not gritty like a food processor.)
1 3/4 cups of dry bread crumbs
Zest of 1 lemon
Juice of 1 lemon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon rum
1/2 cup of rum-soaked raisins (optional)
1 tsp cinnamon (optional)

Poppy Seed Filling
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups vegan milk (I used almond)
2 1/2 cups ground poppy seeds (You can use a coffee grinder to grind them.)
1 3/4 cups bread crumbs
Zest of 1 lemon
Juice of 1 lemon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup of rum-soaked raisins (optional)
1 tsp cinnamon (optional)

Dough:
1. Dissolve yeast in a mixture of the 1/3 cup lukewarm milk and 1 tablespoon sugar and wait a few minutes until frothy.
2. Combine flour and butter until crumbly. I used my KitchenAid mixer’s flat beater and it worked great.
3. Add the yeast mixture wait a few minutes. Add the egg replacer, sour cream, and salt and combine to a soft dough (add 70-100 gr more flour if needed).
4. Divide the dough into 4 and place in the refrigerator for 30-60 minutes to rest.

Walnut Filling:
1. Combine, in a large bowl, the ground walnut, bread crumbs, lemon zest, lemon juice, vanilla, rum, and raisins and cinnamon if adding.
2. Add the sugar to the milk, bring to the boil, then add to the other ingredients. Mix very well.

Poppy Seed Filling:
1. Combine, in a large bowl, the ground poppy seeds, bread crumbs, lemon zest, lemon juice, vanilla, and raisins and cinnamon if adding.
2. Add the sugar to the milk, bring to the boil, then add to the other ingredients. Mix very well.

Cool both fillings.

Assembling:
1. Preheat oven to 350F.
2. Roll out the dough (each part) to a rectangular shape that's not too thin (1/8”-1/4” thick). Spread the cooled filling over it, leaving about an inch all around the edges. Fold the edges over the filling. This will create a nice finished edge after rolling. Another way to do it is to roll the filling out between sheets of plastic wrap first. It's important to get a fairly even ratio of dough to filling. [I went a little overboard on my fillings as you can see -- but the filling is the best part!]

3. Roll up the dough along the longer side, creating a log. Prick with a fork along the top. Traditionally, at this point, an egg wash is brushed on top. I left mine au naturale, but feel free to add a vegan egg wash.
4. Place on a cookie sheet or large baking dish. Let the rolls rest a couple of minutes, then place in the preheated oven and bake until golden brown for 35-40 minutes.
5. Let cool completely and only slice once you are ready to serve.

Boldog Karácsonyt!

Lidia Bastianich and her fabulous shows on Italian cooking have always had a special place in my heart. As an Italian American originally from New York, I love to not only watch Lidia cook up a storm but hear her talk about how Italian food has influenced American culture. Watching Lidia is something my mother and I do together when she visits, and her shows invariably lead to my mother telling animated tales of enormous family meals at her Neapolitan grandparents house in the Bronx and remembrances of my own grandmother’s take on various dishes. But more than that Ms. Bastianich inspires us to get into the kitchen and cook.

When I was a kid I didn’t realize that the food I was eating on a daily basis was not actually eaten in Italy. My mother’s Sunday Gravy was a cherished weekly event and I figured Italians were eating this dish not only in New York and California, but Naples and Palermo as well. Same with her tangy vinegar pepper Chicken Cacciatore and Christmas Eve black olive pizza. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized Italian American food falls into its own special category, full of ingredients that immigrants found after my great grandparents and others traveled through Ellis Island or landed at airports later in the century.

You see, it wasn’t until recently that ingredients like farro, San Marzano tomatoes and Parmigiano-Reggiano started to appear regularly in American grocery stores. Before this, Italian immigrants and their children were limited to using ingredients that were local to their new homes and often distinctly American in taste. So America’s love for beef led to the aforementioned Sunday Gravy, a rich tomato-based sauce full of meatballs, sausages and bragiolle that isn't made in Italy itself.

I have quite a few of Lidia Bastianich’s books, but I use them a little differently than my other cookbooks. While I might open up my new "Sunday Suppers at Lucques" by Suzanne Goin or the gorgeous "Tender" by Nigel Slater to drool over the photos and feel inspired to try something new, Lidia’s books are like visiting my grandmother’s and mother’s recipe files. So much is comfortable and familiar, but with the clear difference that they also provide well-detailed instructions -- something my mother and grandmother thought was covered by phrases like “cook until done” or “add a little of this and that until it tastes right” (all said with a heavy Bronx accent).

Ms. Bastianich’s new book “Lidia’s Italy in America,” which she wrote with her daughter Tanya Bastianich Manuali, is no different. The focus here is the unique ways Italian American immigrants interpreted dishes from their homeland throughout the United States. The book is broken down into the standard sections of antipasti, zuppe, pasta, etc., but within are pages that highlight specific specialties from different areas along with descriptions of the Italian American neighborhoods that created them. So in Poultry we find a vignette about Federal Hill in Providence Rhode Island but soon after follows a recipe for Roberto’s Chicken Piccante from a chef on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx (a neighborhood dear to my heart as it’s where my father grew up). The gamut of Italian American cooking is covered with descriptions of the people who make these neighborhoods distinct and some history as well.

Although I’ve never met her, Ms. Bastianich’s is sort of like my TV culinary mother. Sweet and nurturing while also firm with her advice and directions, I trust her to help me navigate the path of Italian cookery. I will admit that I have occasionally been disappointed, as I was with the deep dish pizza in this book which was more bread than pizza. I can’t really complain, however, as the recipe says “it is a cross between focaccia and a pizza," so she warned me. My suggestion if you make it is to cut the dough in half and add more filling to the top, but remember I’m a Neapolitan-American raised on thin crusts so I’m a bit biased. More often than not, however, I have been quite happy with the results. The baked Rollatini of Sole offered a delightfully lemony take on fish cooked with breadcrumbs and the Italian American Meatloaf is, without a doubt, the best meatloaf I have ever made. My kids and husband raved about it and we all had seconds. Note, however, that the recipe is so big it makes either one incredibly large loaf, or, if you’re like me, one for your own family and one to share with the mom who took your kids for the afternoon.

"Lidia’s Italy in America" has that type of easy cookbook style I like best when reading recipes I will actually use. The recipes are laid out clearly and are easy to follow. I also enjoyed her stories on American neighborhoods and their Italian citizens. My only criticism is that there are hardly any pictures of food (most are of the people in the neighborhoods she visited). I love recipe photos in cookbooks because it’s reassuring to know what dishes are supposed to look like when you cook them and I felt this book could have used a few more. But that is a minor criticism. As she’s done many times before, Lidia Bastianich has provided a solid compilation of Italian American recipes, this time with an emphasis on those that truly reflect the diverse and eclectic nature of the many types of Italian neighborhoods there are in America. So if you’re in the mood for authentic Italian American recipes from the embodiment of Italian mama-ness, pick up a copy of "Lidia’s Italy in America."

Italian American Meatloaf, salad and roasted potatoes. Photo by Denise Santoro Lincoln.

Recipe: Italian American Meatloaf (Polpettone)

One would think that meatloaf is very American, but its origins are actually in a German colonial dish of minced pork mixed with cornmeal. Italians serve it a lot as well, and in this rendition the cultures blend deliciously with the addition of a pestata, a paste of carrots, celery, and onions. Not only does the meatloaf taste delicious, but it is foolproof, moist every time. The leftovers reheat as if just cooked, and Italians love to serve it with roasted potato wedges.

Serves 10 or more

2 cups cubes of country bread with crust
1 cup milk
2 medium carrots, cut into chunks
2 medium stalks celery, cut into chunks
1 medium onion, cut into chunks
1 1/2 pounds ground beef
1 1/2 pounds ground pork
1 bunch scallions, trimmed and chopped
1 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Grana Padano
1 cup marinara sauce or puréed canned tomatoes
1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Put the bread cubes in a medium bowl, and pour the milk over them. Let the bread soak until it is soft. Meanwhile, combine the carrots, celery, and onion in a food processor, and pulse to make a fine-textured paste or pestata.

When the bread is soft, squeeze out the excess milk and put the bread in a large mixing bowl. Mix the pestata, ground meats, scallions, grated cheese, marinara sauce, parsley,salt, and oregano with the bread, using your hands to distribute all of the ingredients evenly. Oil a 10-by-15-inch Pyrex or ceramic baking dish with the olive oil. Form the meat mixture into a loaf in the oiled pan.

Place in the oven, and bake until browned and cooked through (the center of the meatloaf should read 165 degrees F on an instant-read thermometer), about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes before slicing.

Chicago Deep-Dish Pizza. Photo: Lidia Matticchio Bastianich.

Recipe: Chicago Deep-Dish Pizza (Pizza Alta di Chicago)

One could call this dish pizza bread, and it is a cross between a focaccia and a pizza. In Sicily, they make a high pizza called sfincione, topped with tomatoes, oregano, and a few anchovies. It is sold in warm squares as street food from a cart. The idea for deep- dish pizza came from the early Sicilian immigrants that settled in Chicago, although the excessive toppings are not something one would find in Sicily.

Makes 1 pizza

FOR THE DOUGH
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 packet instant dry yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading the dough
1/2 cup fine cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for bowl and pan

FOR THE TOPPING
4 ounces provolone, sliced
4 ounces mozzarella, sliced
1 to 1 1/2 cups marinara sauce
2 ounces pepperoni, sliced
1/2 cup grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

Pour 1 cup plus 3 tablespoons warm (90 to 110 degrees F) water into a bowl, then stir in the sugar and yeast. Let sit until the yeast begins to bubble, about 5 minutes.

In an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the flour, cornmeal, and salt on low to combine. Pour in the yeast mixture and the olive oil to combine while still mixing. Once the dough comes together, switch to the dough hook, and knead on medium-high speed to make a smooth dough, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add a little more water or fl our as needed to make a soft dough. Put the dough in an oiled bowl, cover, and let rise until doubled in size, from 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Punch down the dough, and press it into a 14-x-10-inch oiled baking pan or an oiled 12-inch cast-iron skillet, gently pressing the dough up the sides to make a shell. Fill the shell with an even layer of the provolone and mozzarella, then spread the sauce to cover the cheese completely. Top with the pepperoni, and sprinkle with the grated cheese and oregano. Cover with foil, and bake 45 minutes. Then uncover, and bake until the crust is deep golden brown and the pizza is bubbly, about 20 minutes more. Let sit about 5 to 10 minutes before cutting into wedges and serving.

Recipes excerpted from Lidia's Italy in America by Lidia Bastianich. Copyright © 2011 by Lidia Bastianich. Excerpted by permission of Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Related Programs:
• Watch Lidia Celebrates America -- Holiday Tables & Traditions on KQED TV tonight 12/20/11 at 8pm. View additional airtimes.

Whoopie!

I have a confession to make. These were really supposed to be amazing chewy pumpkin toffee cookies. Apparently chewy and pumpkin cookies are notorious nemeses. Had I consulted the internet before attempting such a perilous undertaking I could have saved myself much heartache, wasted butter, and trays of puffy pumpkin "cookies" taunting me with their flagrant cakiness.

I felt like a failure. A fraud. What happened? Why did my cookies turn into cakes? It's all the pumpkin's fault. I learned that the high moisture content of pumpkin puree was the cause of my demise. There are two purported solutions: simmer the puree until the moisture is cooked out, or use pumpkin butter instead of puree.

Pumpkin Puree, I shake my fist at you

Well, what's done is done. I'll tackle chewy pumpkin cookies when my ego has had time to heal. In the meantime, what to do with these blasted cookie-cakes? Truth be told, while they made god-awful cookies in terms of texture, the flavor was what I was looking for -- full of pumpkin spice warmth and tasty toffee bits.

Toffee, we're still friends

Come to think of it, these cookie fails were quite successful muffin tops. And that's when it hit me. Whoopie pies! (Or shall I say whoopsie pies.) My first grade art teacher always said, "Make a mistake work for you," so this one goes out to you, Miss Morrow.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

I whipped up some Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting (which rocked if I do say so myself), and sandwiched a generous dollop between two of my pumpkin cookie-cakes. A finishing touch of some toffee bits along the edges and I had myself something to whoop about.

Pumpkin Toffee Whoop(s)ie Pies

Pumpkin Toffee Whoopie Pies
A pumpkin cookie whoopsie turns into a whoopie with some quick thinking and a dose of Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting (which, I am now convinced, can cure all baking woes).

Prep Time: 1 hour 20 minutes
Cook Time: 12 minutes
Total Time: 1 hour 32 minutes

Makes: about 8 whoopie pies

Ingredients:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup (4 ounces) pumpkin puree
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 eggs, at room temperature
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice
8 ounces toffee bits

Preparation:

Sift together the flour, cornstarch, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice. Set aside.

Cream together the sugar and butter until fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, and mix to combine. Add pumpkin and vanilla, and mix together until smooth. (If it your mixture starts to look a bit curdled, it is likely because your eggs or butter were too cold, or because the eggs were added too quickly, causing the fat and water particles in the mixture to separate. If this happens, don't worry. Just continue with adding the dry ingredients…it should all smooth out.)

Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture in thirds, mixing together until everything is incorporated.

Stir in the toffee bits, reserving 1/2 cup for garnishing. Cover the bowl of dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour.

Make the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting and stick it in the fridge to chill too.

Preheat the oven to 350º. Scoop the dough out using a trigger ice cream or cookie scoop and place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. The cookie-cakes will spread, so keep it to 6 per baking sheet.

Bake for about 10-12 minutes or until the edges are brown and the center puffs up. Transfer to cooking rack immediately or else the toffee bits tend to stick. Let cool completely.

Put together your Whoopie Pies: Spread a big dollop of the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting onto the bottom of one of the cookie-cakes using a butter knife or piping bag. Sandwich together by placing the bottom of a second cookie on top of the frosting. Roll the exposed frosting side of the whoopee pie over a plate of the reserved toffee bits so they stick. Enjoy!

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

Prep Time: 5 minutes
Cook Time: 0 minutes
Total Time: 5 minutes

Ingredients:

8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1 - 2 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice

Preparation:

With an electric mixer, mix together the cream cheese and pumpkin puree until smooth, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl to ensure even mixing.

Add the vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice, and mix. Slowly add the powdered sugar until it's as sweet as you want. Refrigerate for an hour before using.

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.

Chef Sunhui Chang showcases Fusebox beer + wine license notice. Photo: SunIm Chang

Asian cuisine in the Bay Area has a new crop of intensely passionate leaders with enough talent and culinary chops to lure Martha Stewart to the table. Anthony Myint and Danny Bowien stand behind big, bold Mission Chinese. Sylvan Mishima Brackett of PekoPeko Catering’s insanely articulate and authentic Japanese food will certainly land him on the map of grander things -- one hopes the rumors are true that he’s seeking his own location.  And scheduled to open in January, FuseBox, the West Oakland eatery of Korean-born Sunhui Chang, will add fuel to the Korean food fire with housemade gochuchang, exquisitely crafted pickles, bacon mochi, and well-honed culinary passion.

What’s pucker-worthy about Chang’s cuisine is its pickle-centric nature, many varieties of which he’s been sharing with the pickling community. He’s currently crafting several different varieties of kimchee, using the standard cabbage and daikon, and also rapini and turnip greens. He prides himself on making use of the “offal of vegetables” and thereby using ever part -- including radish greens, and reusing a vinegar pickle brine and the pickled garlic that flavors it. He dunks in the drink your standard vegetables such as cucumbers (see the recipe for Oiji below) and breakfast radish, but also more experimental concepts such as blueberries, summer squash, and fennel.  FuseBox is equipped with some vegetable boxes that will grow some of the produce, and Chang is currently working with the People’s Grocery to have them grow additional vegetables for him. Everything pickled and fermented from Chang’s kitchen will be as closely sourced as possible.

Of course, pickles aren’t the only things on the menu. Bacon-wrapped mochi are satisfyingly stretchy and smoky, and Chang will be grilling ko chu jang pork and chicken yakitori, and caking housemade tofu.

Chang takes regular trips to LA to procure quality, small-batch artisan soy sauce -- he says it’s the closest place to find it outside Korea.  But another of the most impressive aspects of Chang’s cooking is that he makes his own gochuchang, the hot, salty and sweet fermented red pepper paste that is the basis of Korean cooking (akin to what miso is to Japanese cuisine). Few are the Korean chefs who make their own. Most Korean markets offer several different varieties, and if you’ve ever eaten Korean food, you’ve tasted it.  It’s used in stir fries like bi bim bab, as a marinade for bulgogi, to flavor stews, as a condiment for crispy lettuce wraps, as the base for soups, and in many varieties of Korean pickles. I’d never tasted good gochuchang until I’d encountered Chang’s proprietary blend of glutinous rice, soybeans, red chili powder, and sugar. The sauce ferments for about 60-90 days.

“It took a while to learn the gochuchang. I went through so many batches where mold had developed. What I make is not as sweet as the store-bought stuff; more earthy.” Chang reports that in anticipation of the FuseBox opening, he’s experimenting with different varieties of gochuchang, including one for fish stews, and another to be eaten fresh.

Chang has kimchee and other Korean flavors flowing in his blood. As a child born in Korea, family friends gathered to play cards at his house and eat his mother’s well-loved kimchee chi gae. “There’s a Korean expression, ‘She just had her hands in the food,’ and that’s why it was so good. We didn’t have recipes or grow up with cooking books. Cooking was just innate to her.”

Eventually, after Chang’s family moved to Guam, his mother opened her own Korean restaurant when he was 13 years old, and he immediately began helping out by cleaning dishes, sweeping, and mopping. Later he was allowed to slice meat and occasionally pop into the kitchen. “I’m so grateful for everything she taught me, and I wish I’d followed her more. However, at the time, I didn’t think she was really, really cooking. It wasn’t as exciting as watching chefs on the cooking shows!” Growing up with Guam’s tiny and remote culinary culture, Chang laughs as he recalls that the PBS show Great Chefs, Great Cities was a huge influence on his career choice.

Just a few days after his 17th birthday, Chang moved to Berkeley by himself to begin qualifying for in-state tuition at UC Berkeley, where he later studied sociology. To fund his schooling, he worked in a bagel shop, then as a butcher and a fishmonger at a market. He soon became a cook at the now-defunct Hwang Won, a Korean restaurant in Oakland, before launching his own catering business for 14 years.

After two years of effort, FuseBox has secured over $17,000 via Kickstarter (where I invested $25); enough to finish construction and, hopefully, have the inside complete for an opening this January. Expansion plans are already underway to offer outdoor seating and possibly open a market next door selling fresh fish, local artisan goods, and of course Chang’s pickles by the jar.

Oiji—Korean Cucumber Pickle

Recipe by Sunhui Chang of FuseBox Oakland

5 small cucumbers—Either Pickling (Kirby), Persian, or Japanese
2 tablespoons kosher salt
3 cloves garlic
The whites of two green onions, cut into 1’ pieces
4-5 Korean chili pepper threads (available at Korean markets)
3/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water

Wash cucumbers, leaving them wet.  Sprinkle salt on cucumbers and let them sit in a flat dish for three hours, turning them occasionally.

Wash the salt from the cucumbers and trim the ends so that they’ll fit standing upright in a pint-sized jar.  Add them to the jar, along with the garlic, green onion, and pepper threads.

Meanwhile, make the brine.  In a small saucepan, combine the vinegar, sugar and water.  Bring to boil.  Lower heat and simmer for 1-2 minutes.

Pour warm brine over cucumbers.  Cover, cool, and refrigerate.  Enjoy the pickles after two days, but they will last up to two weeks.

Makes one pint.

Photo of Bacon Mochi by SunIm Chang. Photo of Kimchee and Gochuchang by Sarah K. Khan.

Michael Ruhlman -- you've heard his name before -- is in love with numbers. His previous book, Ratio, focused less on hard-and-fast recipes and more on the proportions of ingredients to one another.

With his latest book, Ruhlman's Twenty, he zeroes in on twenty culinary techniques and ingredients over the course of 100 recipes. While I haven't read his first instructional cookbook "The Elements of Cooking," his new work seems to be a more expansive, visually-rich book filled with glossy photos taken by his photographer wife, Donna Turner Ruhlman.

From salt to water, roast to braise, Michael gives a thorough run down of methods and terms before launching into the recipes. There's nothing in the book that the average home cook couldn't successfully attempt with a modest amount of effort, and "Ruhlman's Twenty" seems geared more for the beginner cook who'd like to add more sparkle to old favorites. The recipes are a collection of comfort food standards, from "Perfect Meat Loaf with Chipotle Ketchup," "Pulled Pork with Eastern North Carolina Barbecue Sauce," "Mac and Cheese with Soubise" and "Rosemary-Brined Buttermilk Fried Chicken" to basic fare such as "Scrambled Eggs with Goat Cheese and Chives" and "Tomato Sauce." There's nothing too complicated or exotic within its pages, and it would be a good addition to the bookshelf for any aspiring foodie looking to step up their culinary game.

Under "Soup: The Easiest Meal" -- because he agrees with former Gourmet editor Ruth Reichl's assertion that, "You know what they say, if you've got chicken stock, you've got a meal." -- he includes a recipe for "Sweet Bell Pepper Soup" that includes just four ingredients.

Sweet Bell Pepper Soup
Serves 5

1 pound / 455 grams red, orange, and/or yellow bell peppers / capsicums, seeded and cut into 2-inch/5-centimeter pieces
1 cup / 240 milliliters heavy / double cream
Kosher salt
Lemon juice

Combine the vegetables and cream in a saucepan and bring the cream to a simmer over high heat. Reduce the heat to low and cook the vegetables until tender, about 5 minutes. Puree, adding a three-finger pinch of salt and leaving the blender cap off and covering the the blender with a kitchen towel until the contents are thoroughly pureed, about 2 minutes. Taste and add more salt if needed. Add a squeeze of lemon. Pass the soup through a fine-mesh strainer into a clean pan or bowl. Taste again for seasoning and adjust if neceessary. Serve 1/2-cup/60 milliter portions.

Ruhlman says, "The same method works with nearly any vegetable, but the best choices are nongreen vegetables such as root vegetables, fennel, cauliflower, and mushrooms."

If you'd like to meet the author in person, Michael will be appearing at Omnivore Books this Wednesday, November 30, from 6-7 PM. A celebratory dinner at Incanto will follow afterwards, and he'll be present to sign copies for guests. The dinner is standard seating, so reservations can be made online or by phone at 415-641-4500.

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)

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.)