Thanksgiving is Coming

This Thanksgiving you will gather around the table with those you love, break bread, carve turkey, and crave a nap afterward. There will hopefully be mounds of white whipped potatoes gilded by dark mahogany gravy. You will slice tender, moist turkey and dab it with tart cranberry sauce, dragging it through a field of bacon braised green beans. Perhaps later in the day you will pile a dollop of whipped cream on top of a gooey pecan pie. Of course there will be a midnight raid on the fridge to compose a pistolette of oyster dressing and leftover turkey.

All of this will be undertaken surrounded by friends and family. There will be goblets of red wine and squat rocks glasses filled with small batch bourbon. If we are really lucky, the Cowboys will blow a winnable game. 

But for many people, Thanksgiving is just another day of going hungry. Estimates from Second Harvest Food Bank define 1 in 8 Louisianians as struggling with hunger. Almost 75% of people serviced by the Greater New Orleans and Acadiana Second Harvest Food Bank are food insecure. What that means is they don't always know where their next meal is coming from. 

We talk nearly everyday about food. The subtext of all of that is that both Peter and I are incredibly blessed to know that our next meal is only a few hours away. Let's face it, as great as Thanksgiving is, you usually end up with plenty of leftovers. Those leftovers either get turned into indulgent snacks or thrown out later in the weekend. An uncle of mine always says after Thanksgiving, "Every year we try and cook less food, and somehow each year we end up with more leftovers."

If that sounds like something uttered in your household, I want you to encourage you to take one dish off of your Thanksgiving menu. Whatever you would have cooked, donate a like amount of food or cash to your local food bank. This is not a major sacrifice. You know those candied sweet potatoes are more hassle than they are worth or that the only reason you always make green peas is because you have always made green peas. It is a simple gesture. Plus, it likely will save you from doing an extra set of dishes and get you on the couch quicker to witness the Cowboys collapse. 

This year I am not going to make Corn Goodness. A few ears of corn, some red peppers, a jalapeno, shallot, and garlic is about $10 bucks worth of groceries. While we won't miss it too much at our table, it may make a huge difference in someone else's day. And isn't that the true meaning of a holiday as special as Thanksgiving?

Thanksgiving is Coming

The first real cold snap has arrived. The sun, to borrow from Dan Borne, is finding its home in the Western sky earlier in the evening than just a few weeks ago. All of this can only mean one thing...Thanksgiving, that greatest of American holidays, the ne plus ultra of eating and drinking, the Super Bowl of Bounty, is just five weeks away.

It is time to get serious about Thanksgiving.

First, some self-scouting of last year. The mashed potatoes took a turn for the worse when we all got distracted with catching up. The turkey was done, but someone (read here: me) had forgot to start the potatoes. Cooking on an away field with a pot with more bends and warps in it than a trip with Doc Brown, the potatoes just sat in tepid water never really fully cooking. I tried to force the issue by pushing them through a ricer and then finishing the smaller granules in chicken stock and butter. I do not recommend you try this. The potateos came out gummy and tacky, a travesty of science and technology that should never happen. Lindsay still hasn't forgiven me.

This year I am simplifying things by cooking on home turf, for one. One turkey is going on the Big Green Egg while a boudin stuffed turkey breast is getting roasted in the oven. Mashed potatoes will be the only other thing I cook, besides a gravy. If I can pry the recipe for that corn dish out of the hands of the cooks at Baru, I may try that as well. Of course, I may want to bake some bread in the morning. But first and foremost is atoning for the sins of last year's Thanksgiving. Everyone else is invited, just bring booze and Better Cheddar. The rest will take care of itself. And remember, Thanksgiving is coming.

Recovery Mode

Photo courtesy of ChowHound.

We hope that everyone had a gloriously gluttonous Day 1 of Blackened Out High Holy Days.  In the future, Thanksgiving 2010 will always be remembered as the year that Saints fans were most thankful for Malcolm Jenkins. Someone get that man a leftover drumstick.

Let's hope that LSU and the Mad Hatter can keep the good times rolling on Saturday.  Good luck with your Turkey Day hangover, and we will see you all on Monday.

Thanksgiving is Coming: Side Swiped

We are a day away from the Third Annual Blackened Out High Holy Days. For the next two days, eating and drinking will take precedence over all other things including breathing and blinking. Tomorrow is of course Thanksgiving. A day in the Blackened Out cult where you are forgiven for all of your sins for the year so long as you stuff your gullet with food, drink too much, and pass out watching football. This is our religion. You are free to join.

Friday is a day for also overindulging. Usually we head to the Old Green Lady with Legend and the Pope. However, that was canceled this year because Legend is getting married. So instead of upholding tradition, he and Megorita will be wearing jeans and a white button down while standing under a moss strewn oak tree with a photographer telling them to "Look natural." We wish them well. Instead we will make turkey gumbo.

Sides are important. Case in point, the "Meat and Three" restaurants which dot the South like waitresses in a diner. Sure the meat is important, but so too is the option to choose three homey side dishes like macaroni and cheese, collard greens, mashed potatoes, or butter beans. That is where the real magic lies.

Here is a rough outline of two dishes I am cooking this year. And as promised, the recipe for the world's greatest mashed potatoes (as so called by people in my office). Now listen, today when you are at the store by yourself these three things, no matter what 1) at least 2 pounds of unsalted butter (leave this out overnight to soften), a bunch of lemons, and a box of Kosher salt. I don't care if you just bought that stuff, get more. Thanksgiving needs those three things in abundance, you can never have too much.

Cornbread, Andouille, and Kale Dressing

I have no idea how this will turn out, but ever since making the duck and kale gumbo a few weeks back, this idea has intrigued me. Making cornbread tonight. Tomorrow, I''ll simmer the kale in water with a good amount of onion, red pepper, garlic, and a large smoked ham hock. Ill strain and reserve the broth. Then I will saute some andouille with the trinity (minus green peppers, add jalapeno). To this I'll add the kale and let it cool. Then, fold in the cornbread that has been broken into small chunks. Cover the whole thing with the reserved broth. When it cools, add in an egg or two, and place in a greased baking dish. Once turkey is done, pop it in the oven for 45 minutes or so. Could be a disaster, could be brilliant.

Roasted Sprouts of Brussels

Trim outer leaves of brussel sprouts. Blanch in heavily salted water then dunk in ice bath. Drain and dry. Toss in some olive oil, garlic, shallot, salt, pepper, and lemon juice. Place in baking dish and roast for about 35 minutes until nicely browned. If you can roast them under the turkey, even better.

Mashed Potatoes

This isn't rocket science. It is much more important than that. Growing up Lindsay's mom only made real mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving, as a result on Thanksgiving Lindsay becomes a real picky eater. As in, the only thing she will eat is a huge plate of mashed potatoes with gravy. If the mashed potatoes do not meet her approval, things get ugly in a hurry.

First, go to Bed Bath and Lineneny Things and get yourself a ricer. Not a food mill, a ricer. A food mill is too rough with the potatoes. This creates an attractive environment for starch to mingle, imbibe a few cocktails, and create gummy mashed potatoes. You want to coddle these potatoes, make them feel special, lull them into a false sense of security and then ram a bunch of butter down their throats.

You want to use Yukon Golds here; five pounds is a good start (recipe is easily doubled or tripled, but never quadrupled). Get a large stock pot (or a pot you would use to cook pasta in) and fill it halfway or so with cold water and at least a 1/4 cup of salt. Peel the potatoes and place directly into the pot. Bring to a boil, then a rapid simmer, until you can pierce the potatoes easily with a knife. Drain through a colander and cover with a towel (this allows potatoes to steam and cool slightly). Meanwhile, in a large pot melt 2 pounds of unsalted butter. Yes, 2 pounds. To this add, a few good cracks of pepper, a couple dashes of hot sauce, and a pinch of salt.

Keep the heat on low, you do not want to brown the butter. Now, rice the potatoes a few at a time into the pot. Once all the potatoes are riced, gently fold the potatoes. Listen up. You have gone to all this trouble to make sure the potatoes are not starchy. Be gentle, fold and stir as if you were trying not to wake a baby. Once all the butter and potatoes have been incorporated, taste. It likely needs more salt, if so add it. If not serve immediately.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving or if you are a member of the Blackened Out Faith, a Gluttonous High Holy Days to you and your belly.

Thanksgiving is Coming: Turkey v. Sides

There have been many debates in America's history. Federalists vs. Anti-Federalists, Lincoln v. Douglass, Nixon v. Kennedy, Plaid v. Polyester, Heavy Metal Hair Bands v. Soft Rock*, Dan v. Dave, Coke v. Pepsi,  and Bieber v. Devil. But nothing incites such fiery rhetoric and mud slinging as whether or not Thanksgiving is all about the bird or all about the sides.

In America, when the Senate is deadlocked the Vice President gets to vote. America is deadlocked as to whether or not turkey or sides rule. I am the Vice President of this blog, so therefore I vote for Turkey. I love the Thanksgiving Turkey. Even if it is slightly dry, most often overcooked and above all a hassle, the turkey connects us to the agrarian hunter gatherer roots of our grandparents who had to shop for a turkey in such exotic sounding lands as Piggly Wiggly or Woodrow's Poultry Farm. My sister, Alexis, specifically looks forward to Thanksgiving because she loves "waking up to the smell of a turkey in the oven." Alexis doesn't cook so I have no idea where she wakes up on Thanksgiving morning.

Which brings me to my second point about turkey. Don't overthink this. I tell you this because I overthink how to cook the turkey every single year. This year, the methods I've explored include confitting the leg, sous viding the breast, pan frying the thighs, shish kabobing the gizzards, and using the skin to line a handbag.

Slight tangent-I've done some scholarly work in regards to frying the whole shebang and all I can say is this: it has no redeeming qualities that outweigh the hassle. The meat often comes out stringy and overcooked, the flavor is always bland unless you hit one of those pockets of injection driven salt water, and then you have 5 gallons of peanut oil to dispose of. Stop frying turkeys, please. I have nothing against the tradition of gathering around a roaring cauldron of heat and drinking beer while something cooks, just stating that frying a turkey is not the bees knees. It is a very long, expensive process to do something very simple, which is cook a bird.

Around Wednesday of next week, I will vacillate between making a brine, using a dry brine, or just leaving the turkey uncovered in the fridge (which will dry out the skin, the best part of any bird). I will begin making a brine and then realize the 6 gallon bucket I have is filled with dirt from a planting attempt gone wrong last April. This will lead to screaming, cursing, and hopefully drinking. Ahh, the Holidays are here.

Then there is the mess of how do you keep a 6 gallon bucket cold overnight. After weighing the option to just use one of those injectors, a disgusting, terrible invention that just creates pockets of over salted meat, I will likely consult the intranets and say a Novena to the Pilgrims. Finally, Lindsay will take over and say, "You know I roast the chickens in this house. I'm just gonna do it and it treat it like a large chicken."

She will make a butter spiked with chopped herbs, lemon zest, salt, pepper, and other accouterments. She will rub this butter under the skin and cook it til it "looks done". The turkey will be incredible. So far Lindsay is the only reason I can justify going to law school.

There will be a boudin stuffed turkey breast roulade a la Donald Link that will get seared on the grill before slowly smoking. I bet you $100 dollars we will forget about this bird. Halfway through the meal someone will wonder why the backyard is on fire. This will lead to screaming, cursing, and more drinking. As you can see, I do not follow my own advice.

Gravy. This is where I am glad I didn't brine a turkey. You see when you brine the turkey you are left with pan drippings that are too salty to use for anything other than attracting deer. But with Lindsay's turkey the pan will be studded with little burnt bits of carrot and onion, charred chunks of skin, and a sheen of butter. Remove most of the fat, then place this on the stove. Crank the stove, add some butter to the pan and touch of flour. Make a quick roux (about 5 minutes). Then pour in a healthy glass or two of white wine and scrape all this bits off the bottom of the pan. To this whisk in some hot stock. If you forgot to make stock last weekend, commence screaming, cursing, and drinking.

Pour into one of those gooseneck containers and hope no one cares at this point. If you did other things correctly, no one will. Next week, sides.


*Soft rock definitely wins. Why because Hall and Oates endures, while Ratt has slipped into the ether. Speaking of Hall and Oates, take a look at this video. That right there is nothing short of a profile of a duo who thinks at a specific moment in time, they can do no wrong. So let's pretend to be there when they conceived this video.

Daryl Hall- "Let's just sit there and look like assholes. I'll dress like the love child between Siegfried, Ziggy Stardust, and Tina Turner."

John Oates- "Cool. I have this tuxedo, some chick at the show last night ripped the sleeves off, but I still have the jacket with penguin hands."

Hall - "If we can just get some people to walk around us, like a girl, the short roadie in a devil costume, we'll fill in the rest with droopy eyes, stern looks, and throwing pieces of paper in the air. For Chrissakes, we are Hall and Oates we don't need to do much more than smoke cigarettes and be awesome."

Oates - "Pass the cocaine."

Thanksgiving is Coming

At some point two weeks from tomorrow, you will stare down a long table strewn with platters of food, napkins colored like the fallen leaves of New England, and glasses rimmed with lipstick stains. Stories are told and laughter peels off like the bells of an Italian hill town's church. The game will hum in the background with Joe Buck's near ceaseless stupidity and Troy Aikman's affirmations of that stupidity. You may push back from the table and take the scene all in. One big happy family, "Man we should do this more often," you'll say.

You are drunk. Day-drunk to be precise. The kind of drunk that feels like the first time you drank beer in a shelter in front of the levee on Lake Pontchartrain when you kissed a girl in a Dominican skirt. Your face is flushed, voices sound like the teacher from Charlie Brown, and you could use a nap. Do not make any promises to anyone from this moment on. It is best to tell the tales you know, offer to do the dishes, and then take a nap. 

You aren't used to having three cocktails, a bottle of champagne, and three quarts of red wine before 3 p.m. on a Thursday. Do not be surprised that your body is trying to tell you to relax. Now, to get this point requires a careful calibration of skill and planning.

You can't get ugly early here. So my suggestion is after your second cocktail, stop drinking the hard stuff until after you have eaten. You should ease into wine like an old man into a hot bath. Now here is where you ask, "What is the perfect wine for Thanksgiving?"

There is no such thing. On your table this year you will likely have turkey, dressing, oyster dressing, corn, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, that creepy Jello mold thing, green beans, bread, soups, sickeningly sweet ham, canned soup someone tries to pass off as homemade, Tofurky (the weird aunt) and one of those centerpieces that no one can figure out where it lives the rest of the year. That is roughly every member of the food group. (No, I did not forget pork. Bacon is in the green beans.) You have a enough textures to decorate Versace's bed, and each of the flavors on your taste buds will be called into active service. There is no wine that will go perfectly with everything, except maybe Champagne.

The good news is there are no wines that don't work. On the white side, I like Rieslings. Without getting dorky, Riesling comes in a variety of styles from dry to sweet. You may say, "Sweet wines. That is gross." Tell yourself that next time you pound four slabs of ribs with sweet tea (a true abomination) or chase a slice of pizza with a Coke. Sweetness is very welcome, but more importantly the acidity in a Riesling makes it an excellent match for foods of all sorts. Also, this juice is generally low in alcohol and has never been introduced to oak on a formal basis, which  makes it a perfect wine for a marathon drinking session.

On the red side of the road, choose a simple Beaujolais-Villages. Now, notice I did not say Beaujolais-Noveau, which comes in brightly painted bottles filled with what is presumably wine. The benefit to these wines is that they are simple and bouncy. Now, that last term may sound "elitist" but all it really means is that they get along really with a variety of foods. Beaujolais-Villages does especially well with spicy foods, which as you know is how we tend to like our foods down here. The Gamay grape is also very low in tannins which means you can drink a lot of this stuff without slipping into a headache.

Both Riesling and Beaujolais-Villages are affordable and easy to find. Affordable is big, because you are going to need a lot of wine. Buying a case gets you a 10% discount at any reputable wine merchant, so buy in bulk. So head on in to your friendly wine merchant and ask a few questions, they may even pull a few corks. Do it this weekend.  

Now whatever wines you choose to serve with the meal, let me suggest one last thing. You may have wines sitting at home that are being reserved for a special occasion. Thanksgiving is a special occasion. Encourage everyone coming to your house to bring something nice. After dinner when the pots are scrubbed and the dishwasher filled, open the good stuff, light a fire, put on some Sinatra or Louis Armstrong, sit around and enjoy the moment. This is what wine pairs with best.

Thanksgiving is Coming

Don't look now but Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Look, I know you are probably just getting over waking up next to Darth Vader on Monday morning, but let's focus. And taking out your frustrations with Christmas/Chanukah/Kwanzaa/New Years Eve on Thanksgiving is very childish and immature.

Thanksgiving celebrates why we live in America in the first place. First off nothing says prepare for the coming winter like an enormous feast. Second, it is the only holiday centered around a nap. Third, there are football games. However, we do have to detract points for those games always involving Donnie Boy Riguez's Lions. But bonus points as this year the Saints play. Fourthly, Thanksgiving is the only holiday that gives you the next day off as well. Finally, Thanksgiving has the coolest theme song.

The most important part of insuring a successful Thanksgiving is not properly cooking the turkey (which is nearly impossible), but making sure you have a well-stocked bar. How else are you going to put up with relatives from the other side of the political universe than you? Plus it helps everyone loosen up to make fun of Jerry Jones and that guy over there.

Good rule of thumb is to make sure you bar has one of each: bourbon or rye, scotch, gin, and rum. I'd choose handles because unlike fish and houseguests, liquor still smells great after three days. If anyone asks for vodka, hand them gin. They won't know the difference anyway. Now you can jazz up your bar with other stuff. Bitters, rare elixirs from far away lands, and liquors which make men do bad things. But if you go down this route, you are only guaranteeing someone will say, "What? You don't have any Dubonnet?"  or "You mean to tell me you ran out of Orgeat. You know that is the only way I can drink rum."

Soda, water, and tonic would be good to have. Those cherries in formaldehyde are absolutely necessary. A few segments of lemon, orange, and lime go a long way in easing the feud between Aunt Berthel and Uncle Joey. If someone in your family is bringing kids, make sure to have plenty of Champagne in the house as it goes very well with orange juice. Two birds, one stone.

By the way, go to the liquor store this weekend. I know, I know, you don't have time. But you know when you really don't have time to go to the liquor store? The Wednesday before Thanksgiving. In between picking your sister up at the airport, swinging by Honey Baked Ham, and watching your nephew play an oppressive, buckled shoe wearing Pilgrim at the St. Stephen of the Sanctimonious Thanksgiving Theatrical, the last thing you want to do is wade into Cuban Liquor. Because I guarantee you there will be Teetotaler Terry asking the sales staff what is difference between wine and beer. Go now. Trust me.

Your bar is where the party either goes very right or horribly wrong. Remember prior planning prevents poor performance. Now here, is a drink to use up all the Champagne the kids won't finish.We will cover wine another day. We will cover it all because Thanksgiving is coming.

The Fancy Manhattan

To measure, use the Louapre family standard unit of measurement: your God given hands. In a rocks glass, measure out three fingers of decent bourbon or rye. (Somewhere a mixologist/bar chef with a handlebar mustache and Edith Piaf lyrics tattooed on his stomach, cries.) Buffalo Trace or Sazerac Rye is preferable but Old Grandad will do. Remember you want your relatives eventually to leave so don't break out the good stuff.

Now pour this bourbon into a shaker that you have filled with some crushed ice. To this add, 1/2 an ounce of sweet vermouth and a few dashes of bitters. Angostura are called for in the real recipe, but don't fuss too much. These are relatives; not people you are trying to impress.  Shake and strain into the rocks glass which you have either added ice to or not. Your call. Top with a nice glug of Champagne and a cherry.

Thanksgiving is Coming

Editor's Note: This will be our last post until the Monday of The Game. Tomorrow, as you know, is Spring Break for fat adults and Friday is our annual luncheon with The Pope, Legend and Doc at the Old Green Lady. Hopefully they won't kick us out, or worse, seat us upstairs for being such good reporters a few months ago. Have a great Turkey Day.

Booze

Listen, maybe your family gets along without it. If so, congrats. For the rest of us, while you may not need it to tolerate Uncle Harry's stories, it certainly helps. Plus the goal of Thanksgiving is to do things you normally wouldn't do on a Thursday. You get to sleep in late. There is football on TV during the day. You get to eat a huge lunch replete with wine (OK, this is normal for some of us). And then if things go according to plan, you get to fall asleep in a Barcalounger.

Cocktails

It looks like it will be chilly on Thursday, so why not begin the day with an Old Fashioned. The night before I want you to make a simple syrup: 1 cup sugar, 1 cup water; dissolve over heat or vigorous shaking. Into glass, ice, three fingers of bourbon or rye whiskey, a finger of syrup, a few dashes of Peychaud's bitters, an orange slice, a few cherries, and a splash of club soda. Stir and enjoy. Of course, you could always make a pitcher of Satsuma Wrestlers or Mimosas, using the juice of as many satsumas as you can find and a bottle of bubbly.

Beer and Wine

Beer is often overlooked at Thanksgiving, but it fits in just as well as water. For the darker side, I would focus on a nutty ale such as Lazy Magnolia's Southern Pecan or a more basic Newcastle. Too bad NOLA Brown isn't available outside of a keg yet. A Guinness would also go very well with all the hearty food of Thanksgiving. Of course there is no shame in knocking back a few ice cold Miller High Lifes. Shoot, it's just as healthy as water.

Let's get this out the way. There is no "perfect" wine for Thanksgiving. I would even further this by saying there is no perfect wine for any food. On Thanksgiving drink, whatever you like. White burgundy and cranberry, why not? Cabernet and sweet potatoes, sure. It does not matter. But regardless here are a few selections from me.

On the white side of the table, stick to something basic that can be drank cold. A fume blanc, pinot gris, or pinot grigio would work. I also think a riesling or well-honeyed viognier would work, calling to mind those holidays when you drank your body weight in Coca Cola.

Moving to the red, red wine.... Robert Mondavi makes several enjoyable and affordable wines. Their Private Selection (formerly the Coastal Selection) Pinot Noir would mingle with all of the flavors of Thanksgiving without overwhelming your palate. Plus at around $15 a bottle, there will be no regret in opening one more bottle as the last guest leaves.

The fizzy wines are also perfect on Thanksgiving. Cavas, Champagnes, and Sparkling Wines will lend a festive tone for sure, but they also serve an essential function: they clear your palate. The bubbles and acidity will scrub your tongue so you can have another bite of dressing.

In line with fizzy drinks, recently I had an opportunity to taste some alcoholic, sparkling apple cider, and I couldn't help think, this drink would be perfect with Thanksgiving. Low alcohol makes it easy to drink (and drink and drink). The apples lend a flavor of fall and a touch of sweetness to a well-rounded beverage. There are some good brands out there, seek out a bottle from Stein's Deli today.

Finally for wine, you may want to have one nice bottle. After the dishes have been washed and the Turkey carcass is on the stove transforming into stock, when there are just the few guests left that you really like, open a really nice bottle of wine. I will let you decide which one. Sit back, put your feet up, start a fire if you can, put the game on mute, turn on some music, chat, and enjoy the evening.

Better rest up now, 'cause Christmas is coming.

Thanksgiving is Coming

Last week the New York Times enlisted two writers to argue about what was more important at Thanksgiving: the turkey or the sides. We will not add to the vitriol and debate that plagues this nation. Do we really need to fight about this? No. The answer is that they both make Thanksgiving special.

I see it like this. A turkey is the American touchstone. Every family has a turkey. It is what ties us to every other American who stops, gives thanks, and celebrates Thanksgiving on that Thursday. Sides tell your family's story. The sides that decorate the table make your Thanksgiving, well, your Thanksgiving.

In our household, we start Thanksgiving with a cocktail. Preferably one with bourbon and not much else, but an Old Fashioned makes an appearance from time to time. Maybe a few mimosas for the womenfolk. There are usually Better Cheddar and Wheat Thins on a cheeseboard with some grapes and strawberries. Why? Because.

The younger of my two older sisters will make a crawfish and corn bisque (because nothing says "late fall" like crawfish). This same sister will invariably wear a summer dress and remark how cold it is, leading to a fire being started on her behalf. This in turn causes the house to fill up with smoke as it becomes apparent the flue hasn't been opened since it was last closed.

Before brining, foil hats, and frying came into popular lexicon, it seemed like the turkey cooked for the whole month of November. While the turkey was in its last trimester, Mom made mashed potatoes with russets, a hand mixer, margarine, Daisy sour cream, and a microwave. I use yukon golds boiled with the skin on, steamed, then peeled and run through the Kitchen Aid mixer. I use roughly three cows of cream and a tub of butter, a good dash of Crystal, and some creme fraiche. Mom's still wins.

Then there is oyster dressing from my dad. The recipe calls for a quart of raw ersters and their likker. He buys two quarts, using one as his "payment" as he cooks down the trinity inside an old gray battleship re-purposed as a dutch oven. Even though he has made the dish countless times, there will be a last minute run to Office Depot to pick up toner so that he can print out the recipe. This is usually preceded by a litany of curse words and always succeeded by a final trip to the grocery store.

There is also corn goodness - corn sauteed with butter, jalapeno, onion, roasted red pepper, and garlic. In its original incarnation, corn goodness was as salty as an old sailor, which I blame on Fat Harry's the night before. Now whenever it is served one sister will say, "Rene, don't ruin it this year. Ohh remember how hungover you were? You looked like death."

Fresh green beans with garlic, butter, and lemon make an appearance, solely for the purpose of being able to say, "Look, that's greenish." There might be other things that make a cameo one year or so, but they are soon forgotten and dismissed to the kids' table.

As you well know, armies march on their stomachs, and to that end, breads are vitally important. Rolls, French, and Bunny (for turkey, mashed potato, gravy, and cranberry sandwiches Thursday night) can not be overlooked.

Now comes dessert. I remember once when my oldest sister made pecan pie. She could not have been older than 16 or so. She was really into "jazz" and Marlboro Lights. To make this pie she asked the rest of the family to leave the house the weekend before Thanksgiving, presumably because the crust needed to rise in a controlled environment. That year there were beer cans behind the garage and a McKenzie's receipt in the trash.

I always associate Thanksgiving with orphanages. Why? Well, as a youth, following rules, behaving, and the like were not my strong suits. Now they are absolute bedrocks. Nearly every Thanksgiving after Mass (why was Mass involved on an American holiday?), we would drive by the old orphanage on Carrollton, and my sisters and parents would tell me to get out. I always believed them, just for a second.

Now that is a side dish uniquely mine.

Thanksgiving is Coming

The greatest holiday is Thanksgiving. But don't take my word for it. Thanksgiving was originally created by a rowdy bunch of ex-cons who thought religious oppression was for the birds. Then it was ratified by none other than Abe Lincoln. And we all know that dude had some pretty good ideas. Besides what is there not to like? Fall - Best Season, Football - Best Sport, Eating - Best Form of Exercise.

So let's get you ready for Thanksgiving. First thing is first, da bird. Take that turkey fryer and put it back in the garage. Put away the needles and salty injectable marinades with names like "Dr. Cajun's Crazy Turkey Viagra." And for goodness sakes, please don't even give Tofurkey a second chance.

I can hear it now: "But frying a turkey is fun!" OK, it might be. But in reality you are going to spend around $50 on enough peanut oil to power the International Space Station for a week. You will not be frying a turkey again this year, which means you have to figure out a way to dispose of 5 gallons of slightly used oil. I recommend putting it in your neighbor's trash. Then there is the issue of safety. While although I trust you, your cousin Peanuckle with the gimpy leg, he is a liability. Finally, it just does not taste good. If you want fried turkey, just cut up a whole bird and fry the pieces like chicken. That would be much tastier.

The easiest way to get a juicy, moist tender bird is to cook it properly. Get a screaming hot oven, say 400 degrees. Wash your bird inside and out. Thoroughly season it inside and out with salt and pepper. In the cavity, toss a few chunks of onion, some lemon wedges, garlic, maybe some sage or thyme. Place it on a rack in a roasting pan. Maybe under the rack you want to put some onions, carrots, celery, or a leek. Rub the outside with some butter or oil. Maybe you want to carefully place massage some butter under the skin and over the breast meat. Place a thermometer into the thickest part of the thigh. Place bird in oven, open second bottle of wine, and yell at SEC refs.

After 45 minutes, lower the heat to 325. Remove the bird from oven and baste. Here is where it gets tricky. I want you to fashion a foil breast plate for your turkey. Take a piece of foil and fit it over the breast. Tuck it in, make sure it is sturdy, and place the pan back in the oven. Cook until bird reaches an internal temp of 165. Remove. Let rest for a good half hour. Carve and enjoy.

The foil breast plate will protect the breast from drying out and overcooking. The skin should be golden and crackly after 45 minutes in such a hot oven, but if it doesn't, remove the breast plate and baste occasionally, replacing breast plate when you are done. Or just finish uncovered for the last 30 minutes or so.

Now you certainly can brine the bird, but I find the gravy comes out way to salty. Another simple trick is to just salt the inside and outside of the bird a few hours before cooking. When ready to season, rinse off.

Now, what Turkey Day issues should we tackle next? Besides how to un-invite your cousin Peanuckle.

Thanks Gave In

Its here. America's greatest holiday. No worrying about whether or not to say Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas, no standing in line at Toys R' You, and a successful Thanksgiving ends with a nap and a glass of wine toppling onto your sweater.

Joining Lindsay and I will be her family-dad, mom, and brother. So what is being served at the Louapre house of hilarity bar and grill? Nothing less than perfection.

Breads from La Boulangerie.

Creamy Garlic Soup from Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking topped with Garlic Chips from the The French Laundry Cookbook (in common terms, two stones, one bird).

Corn Goodness which is corn mixed with good things like onion, green pepper, jalapeno, and free money.

A green bean casserole complete with cream of mushroom soup and Durkee fried onions. This is my concession to what I term plebe food and Lindsay is making it. Part of this is because I have an unnatural reaction to casseroles involving cream of _____ soups. And Lindsay thinks it is funny to make crap like this. It is.

Mashed Potatoes. In the words of LC, "Obvi."

Turkey. Going away from the brined turkey this year, as it usually does get overly salty. And furthermore, a properly cooked turkey (to 165 degrees at the thigh) does not dry out. Lindsay made a lemon, garlic bay leaf compound salt (for lack of a better term) that we usually use on roast chicken. We also had to get a "fresh" turkey, which I am willing to try. If the turkey fails, I think we know who to blame. That's right, Native Americans.

Gravy. I made turkey stock last weekend. Stock happens.

Homemade cranberry sauce with Bourbon. Just in case the booze is slow.

A Pumpkin Pie from La Boulangerie with a homemade caramel and sea salt ice cream and house whipped cream. We go the extra mile for our guests, I guess we are just better people.

Wines, loads of it; moonshine, bathtubs full of da stuff, fresh squeezed satsuma juice, the remainder of that Lemon Grass Wheat Ale homebrew, and probably some water at some point.

And Legend returns. Tomorrow lunch at Galatoire's with the Pope, Legend, and Doc. In case you were wondering, Peter wussed out. Something about succeeding.

From all of us at Blackened Out Media Worldwide Conglomerate and Spa, Thank you for reading our petulant comments. We appreciate every last one of you.