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)

This post was supposed to end much differently. You see, we did something special at my house for Thanksgiving this year. I challenged my mom to a "Stuffing Smackdown." Now I'm one of those people that likes to do virtually everything homemade--and my mom does too, for the most part. But she likes bagged stuffing. In my unofficial stuffing research, I discovered that most people think adding their own combination of ingredients to Pepperidge Farm bags of stuffing counts as homemade. I don't. The challenge was on.

The sign on the front door greeting visitors

Now my good friend Creg raised a good point: "Didn't your homemade stuffing over the past few years really suck? If you're going to propose a throw-down, shouldn't it be something you're really good at?" Fair enough. Good point. My sister Zoe and I had tried two different recipes over the past few years and yes, they'd turned out pretty badly. One too soggy, one without much flavor. But this year was different. I decided to adapt this recipe, leaving out the cranberries, and adding a little more celery and sausage. How could cornbread sausage stuffing not win?

We set out, making our stuffing at separate times in the kitchen, asking family members for taste tests and hints about which way they were leaning. I considered bribes, but ultimately knew I didn't need any help. My stuffing would be the clear winner.

Mom and Megan with their final products

So folks arrived, Zoe made her famous holiday punch with ample vodka, Cointreau, and a bit of pomegranate juice. We caught up. We watched that really odd 80's dance party that they play on KOFY right around this time of the year. Then we set up the stuffing sampling area and called the troops in.

Stuffing signage and voting cards: ready and waiting

The rules were simple: you tried each stuffing. We didn't force any considerations on people (texture, flavor etc.)--we just wanted to know their gut reaction: which stuffing is the ultimate king? After voting, you were to fold up your ballot, put it in the top-secret glass, and my cousin Kelsey announced the winner at dinner.

Consulting each other on the best stuffing

Well, the fateful moment came. In the first line of this post, I might've given you a hint as to who won. I have to mention a quick caveat: I think having the stuffing in the bird is a huge advantage that we, somehow, need to take into account. My sister Rachael suggested someone (namely, her) needs to invent a stuffing separator for the bird so people have the opportunity to stuff it with two different recipes. Until she patents that, however, my mom's Pepperidge Farm stuffing was certainly more moist and flavorful although mine had more color, interesting textures, and the sausage was a bit hit. Sweet, sweet Kelsey decided we should mention the good things about the loser first--very diplomatic. She's had good teachers somewhere along the line. She spoke about how she found the sausage quite delicious. Then she went on to make the big announcement: It was 8-3, with Pepperidge Farm leading it this year. The "Traditional family-oriented really good stuffing" took down the "Rock me all night long stuffing."

It happens. My wheels are turning for what improvements can be made next year. And the cool thing: we've got other entrants lined up for the next go-around. My friend Creg mentioned he'll be entering, and my cousin Elliot is planning on bringing a recipe to enter into the mix. So while I think there were subtleties of my incredible stuffing that were lost on the under 12 crowd, who knew that we'd start a new family tradition?

For my mom's recipe, you need to simply consult the bag of Pepperidge Farm. A little broth, some onions and a little celery and call it a day. Now 8-3 is a pretty big loss. So why, you may ask, are you about to give me the recipe for that losing stuffing? While it's a fair and logical question, most everyone agreed that with a little more broth and a chance to sit in the bird's cavity, it would've been a close race. So this stuffing is quite tasty, I assure you. In fact, I just had some for breakfast. The cornbread is buttery and moist and the celery, leeks, and pecans add nice flavor and texture. And of course, who doesn't love sausage? So I encourage you to give this recipe a try next time your family decides to have a Stuffing Smackdown--or really any old time when you're looking for a hearty, fall side dish. I think you'll like it.

Rock Me All Night Long Cornbread Stuffing
Adapted from: Epicurious

For the recipe below, you make the loaves of cornbread first, dry them out in the oven, and then move on to the actual stuffing. Feel free to make the loaves one or even two days in advance as they can be as stale as can be for the stuffing.

Makes: 2 loaves

Ingredients (Cornbread Only)

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups yellow cornmeal
1/2 cup sugar
2 cups milk
2 large eggs
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, softened

Preparation (Cornbread Only)

1. Preheat oven to 400° F. and butter two 9-by-5-by-3 inch loaf pans.

2. Into a large bowl sift together flour, baking powder, and salt and whisk in cornmeal and sugar until combined well.

3. In a bowl whisk together milk and eggs until just combined. Add butter to flour mixture and with an electric mixer beat until mixture resembles coarse meal. Beat in egg mixture until just combined (batter will be thin).

4. Pour batter into pans and bake in middle of oven until golden and a tester comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Cool corn bread in pans on a rack 10 minutes and turn out onto rack to cool completely. Corn bread may be wrapped in plastic wrap and kept in a cool, dry place 2 days or frozen 2 weeks.

Ingredients (For Stuffing)

Makes: 12 cups

1 1/2 loaves corn bread
2 cups pecans
6 leeks (about 1 pound; white and pale green parts only)
4 celery ribs
3/4 stick (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter
3/4 pound sweet Italian sausage (about 4 links)
1/2 cup packed fresh flat-leafed parsley leaves
2 cups chicken broth

Preparation (For Stuffing)

1. Preheat oven to 325° F. Cut corn bread into 1/2-inch cubes and in 2 large shallow baking pans bake in middle of oven until just dry, about 25 minutes. Transfer cubes from 1 pan to a large bowl and in pan toast pecans in oven until insides are golden, 10 to 15 minutes. While toasting, chop parsley.

2. Halve leeks lengthwise and then cut crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces. In a bowl of cold water wash leeks well and lift from water into a sieve to drain. Chop celery. In a 12-inch skillet cook leeks and celery in butter with salt and pepper to taste over moderately low heat, stirring, until leeks are tender, about 25 minutes.

3. Remove sausage from casings and break into pieces. Add sausage to leek mixture and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes, or until sausage is cooked through.

4. To bowl of corn bread add pecans, sausage mixture, parsley, broth, and salt and pepper to taste and toss together. Cool stuffing completely. Stuffing may be made up to this point 1 day ahead and chilled, covered. Bring stuffing to room temperature before proceeding.

For cooking stuffing inside poultry:

Any frozen poultry destined for stuffing should be completely thawed, and the stuffing itself brought to room temperature before it's put into the turkey. Do not stuff your bird the night before you cook it; such a seeming time-saver can have dangerous results. Instead, it is best to loosely fill the bird's neck and body cavities immediately before roasting. And always use a meat or instant-read thermometer: The meat is done when the temperature of the thickest part of the thigh (be careful not to touch the bones) reaches 180°F.; the stuffing baked inside the bird is done at 160°-165°F. After roasting, let your stuffed poultry stand 15 to 20 minutes, a double assurance that the requisite temperatures for food safety have been reached.

For cooking all or part of stuffing outside poultry:

In a shallow baking dish bake stuffing in preheated 325° F. oven 1 hour (for moist stuffing, bake covered entire time; for less moist stuffing with a slightly crisp top, uncover halfway through baking time).

As far as I'm concerned, side dishes are what make a Thanksgiving dinner great. Sure, I like turkey, but I truly love stuffing, gravy and mashed potatoes. For me, carbs topped with gravy make this holiday meal delicious. The problem is that most of us don't make these three dishes very often, so preparing them once a year -- for a table full of family and friends no less -- can seem intimidating and make you feel a bit like Dorothy walking into the dark unknown forest with the Tin Man and the Scarecrow. (Some of you may be able to tell that my daughters have just discovered the joys of watching - and rewatching and rewatching and rewatching -- the Wizard of Oz).

I made my first solo Thanksgiving dinner when I was 22 years old. My mom was sick and so I jumped in at the last minute. I had never made a chicken, let alone a turkey, but was excited to help out my mom and cook the meal. I muddled through the day, making boxed stuffing, lumpy mashed potatoes with the skins mixed in, and watery gravy. It was the worst Thanksgiving meal my family had ever eaten, but nobody seemed to care. Everyone just seemed thankful that they didn’t have to cook all day, and, of course, we were together.

Since then, I have cooked numerous Thanksgiving meals, some with help and some by myself. Each year I learn something new, try something different, and gain a little more confidence. My stuffing is now always made from Ciabatta and oven-roasted chestnuts, my mashed potatoes are creamy, and my gravy is (thankfully) thick. So, if you’re in need of a little Thanksgiving advice, here are a few things I’ve learned throughout the years about my three favorite parts of the Thanksgiving meal.

Moist Flavorful Stuffing
To stuff or not to stuff, that is the question. Although many recipes call for placing the stuffing in a baking dish and cooking it separately from the turkey to avoid bacterial contamination, I think this makes it dry. I therefore bake my stuffing in the turkey so all the lovely juices drip into the dressing, making it moist and flavorful. Without those, the stuffing is really just a mix of bread and other stuff. I then scoop it out when I take my turkey out of the oven, place it in a dish, and stick that back in the oven so it can heat up to the proper temperature while the meat rests. This allows you to get all the flavor of a stuffed dressing, while making sure it won't kill anyone.

Note: I won't recommend a specific stuffing recipe as there are tons of recipes out there.

Here's what I do:
1. Make your favorite type of stuffing, place it inside the turkey, and bake according to your turkey baking instructions.
2. When your turkey is resting, take the stuffing out of the turkey and scoop it into a buttered baking dish.
3. Drizzle about 1/4 cup of turkey broth on top.
4. Cover your dish and set it in the already heated oven for about 15 or 20 minutes while you make your gravy. The cover on the dish helps keep the moisture in, but baking it longer gets it up to the right temperature to be safe.
5. Bake until the stuffing is 170 degrees.
6. If you want a crisp topping, take the cover off for the last five minutes.

Basic Gravy
There are so many gravy recipes out there, but as far as I'm concerned, there's only one proper way to make it. Yes, I'm sure many of the results from those recipes are delicious, but the simple fact that gravy has to be made at the very end of the cooking process means it should be quick and easy. I don’t have time to chop up giblets or add special ingredients.

Here's my basic recipe:
1. Make a stock out of the turkey neck, giblets, onions, celery, carrots and whatever herbs you’re using for your turkey earlier in the day.
2. Warm the stock right before you take the turkey out of the oven.
3. When the bird comes out, set it on a serving dish to rest and then drain all the juices from the pan into a fat separator.
4. While the fat separates from the juices, put your turkey baking dish on the stove, mix in 2-3 tablespoons of flour. If you don’t have much fat in the pan, add in a couple of tablespoons of butter and create a roux.
5. Slowly start to deglaze the pan with the turkey stock. Don’t add any black crispy burnt pieces, however, as they’ll taste bitter.
6. Pour the deglazed juices into a pot, add the defatted juices, and then add more turkey stock until you have a smooth and rich gravy. If you have lumps, just whisk it or put a blending stick in and pulse until the lumps are gone.
7. Add in any chopped herbs you would like to accent the gravy. I like to use about a teaspoon of fresh thyme.
8. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Velvety Mashed Potatoes
I like my mashed potatoes creamy and so put them through a ricer to get a smooth consistency. If you don't have one, you can also mash the potatoes with a fork to get the same fine texture. It just takes a little longer.

Here are some tips to making velvety potatoes:
1. Use Yukon Gold potatoes as they have an innate creamy texture. I usually use about 2 - 2 1/2 pounds.
2. Peel the potatoes before boiling them and cut into 1/2-inch pieces. Make sure the potato pieces are all about the same size so they cook equally.
3. Salt your boiling water to help season your potatoes.
4. When you can easily poke the potatoes with a knife, drain them, and then stick the potatoes back into the now dry pot and heat on medium for about a minute while stirring. This will dry any excess moisture from the boiling process so the potatoes can soak up your milk, butter and cream.
5. Place the potatoes in a ricer and press them into a large bowl.
6. Heat 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup cream and 1/4 cup of butter in a pot.
7. Add the heated milk mixture to the potatoes and stir. Stop adding when the potatoes are the consistency you like.
8. Add salt and pepper to taste.
9. Fluff the potatoes a bit with a fork to aerate.
10. Set the potatoes in a buttered casserole dish, top with small cubes of butter, and bake until the top is slightly crispy.
11. Serve.