It doesn’t look as if we are venturing far from home this weekend. Winter weather has finally set in, and it just seems wise to lay low. I hope you have a special stash of deelish food treats and a good long queue of movies to stream. Be careful shoveling the front walk, and check on your neighbors; the time might be ripe for a good deed or two. We will be baking, making popcorn, reading, and napping this weekend. I hope you are just as productive!

One of our favorite family memories is of the summer vacation we took in Washington, D.C. We were living in Florida then, and we were very familiar with hot weather. Still, nothing prepares a tourist for walking around D.C. in the summer. We started every morning with a big, vacation-y breakfast buffet at our hotel. I think hotels cater to eight-year-old boys. Ours delighted in making his own big, fluffy waffles every morning, which he would coat with melting pats of oozy butter and then drown in long pours of sweet syrup. It was the beginning of his culinary education. The rest of us, with our abstemious breakfasts of twigs and sticks, watched with amazement as he prepared and consumed daily raft-sized waffles. He, alone, had the energy to conquer the pedestrian challenges of summertime D.C.. No monument had too many steps; no Mall, no museum, was too far, or too large for him.

Whenever we make waffles we remember that summer. This will be a good waffle weekend. There is nothing like recounting a summer in Foggy Bottom to warm up a cold January morning. Waffles take a smidge more work than pancakes, but if you make extras, they will freeze nicely, and when gelid February rolls on in, you will have a stash that you can warm easily in the oven (10 minutes at 350°F) , or in the toaster.

We do not have a waffle station with a never-ending supply of waffle batter, or a fancy Belgian waffle iron that spins, like the Marriott hotels do, but we aren’t trying to make an impression on an eight-year-old, either. We have a humble, perfectly serviceable wedding present waffle iron. And a killer recipe. And a few slices of freshly cooked bacon, and hot, buttery real-life maple syrup*. We are not off to conquer the East Building of the National Gallery this weekend, but we will be energized, and just in time to scrub that grout in the shower.

This is our recipe, from the New York Times, so their pay wall may come clanging down: https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017409-waffles. In that case, we also happily use the Kodiak pancake mix, and cannot praise the Bisquick recipe enough:

Bisquick Waffles

2 cups Bisquick mix

1 1/3 cups milk

1 egg 

2 tablespoons vegetable oil


1. Heat waffle iron; grease with vegetable oil or shortening. 

2. Stir ingredients until blended. Pour onto center of hot waffle iron. Close lid of waffle iron. 

3. Allow to bake about 5 minutes or until steaming stops. Carefully remove waffle. Repeat

Add butter and maple syrup to your heart’s content. Top with some health fruit. You are stoking your snow-shoveling-doing-good furnace, after all.

I’m going to bake a double batch chocolate chip cookies on Sunday. We have a new neighbor across the street, and I figure that fresh, homemade cookies might be appreciated on a gloomy, cold weekend. This is our go-to recipe for chocolate chip cookies: https://food52.com/recipes/78188-chewy-chocolate-chip-cookies
I usually only bake a dozen cookies at a time. I scoop the left-over dough into balls with an ice cream scoop, and freeze them. Then it is easy to pop another dozen onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet and bake for 10 minutes at 375°F. Hot and cold running cookies: a little self-reliance and insurance when the weather is dicey, or the baker is lazy.

*We like Grade B maple syrup best – it is darker and more flavorful, and less sweet. But if you have an eight-year-old, you can probably stick with Log Cabin syrup or Aunt Jemima. https://www.delish.com/food-news/g25577695/best-maple-syrup-brands/

“I went to a restaurant that serves “breakfast at any time” so I ordered French toast during the Renaissance.”
― Steven Wright

“I came down as soon as I thought there was a prospect of breakfast.”
― Charlotte Brontë

It’s finally feeling like January. We’ve had a couple of snow days, the bird bath has frozen over, and the foolish daffodils have reconsidered their early entrée into society. The drafty kitchen is a good place to while away an afternoon, particularly if there is a bubbling vat of spaghetti sauce on the back burner, one that needs a stir every so often. This sauce is my ticket to a creative life – as long as there is sauce I don’t have to think much about dinner.

I tend to worry about details. The more mundane, the more I can make of them at 3:00 in the morning. I lie in the dark, trying not to wake Mr. Sanders with my many anxieties. After balancing the checkbook, and rearranging the living room furniture, I tend to think about dinner menus. Do I need to go to the store? (I don’t know how it is in your neighborhood, but mine is pretty lax about mask wearing, which just throws me over the edge. I had an insurance sales person knock on our door yesterday. She was terrified by Luke the wonder dog doing his job and barking at her from behind closed French doors. I was terrified by her complete lack of awareness, arriving uninvited on my doorstep, maskless, and expecting to come inside.) So you can see that I’d rather not go to the store if I can avoid it. I like the insurance coverage provided by a good supply of homemade spaghetti sauce.

Not that Rao’s marinara sauce doesn’t occupy a prominent space in the pantry, but that is more for emergencies or night of existential despair. There is nothing like a quick chicken parm to warm up a cold Wednesday night. Or if dining alone, and somehow popcorn doesn’t seem like a mature dinner choice, a bowl of ziti covered with a blanket of Rao’s is a good, grown-up meal. With a green salad on the side, of course. (No wine, please, this is January.)

Homemade spaghetti sauce means lots o’meals. Fresh, leftovers for lunch, and derivations: lasagne, real chicken parmesan, Friday night pizza sauce, baked ziti (which all beget more lunch leftovers) provide a host of meal solutions, which is what we are all about here at the Spy Test Kitchens. Cook once, and eat like a nice middle-class family without nearby relatives, for at least a week and a half.

Mr. Sanders chafes at the repetition, but I find it comforting. Sometimes I’ll take pity on him during a spaghetti marathon and send a ham sandwich with him for lunch. But he is missing out on one of the best remembered treats from childhood: leftover spaghetti, slightly burnt in the re-heating process. That’s fine. He doesn’t wake up at night.

The best perk of our spaghetti production is that I will do the shopping, and Mr. Sanders does the cooking. I’ll sit at the kitchen counter and chat amiably, but otherwise, except for putting tomato cans into the recycling bin, I am off the cooking hook. It’s like watching an episode of the Great British Bakeoff, without the editing, or the cute British accents. Mr. Sanders channels his inner Antonio Carlucci, and I get to sleep through the night. https://www.antonio-carluccio.com/antonio-carluccios-ragu-bolognese-recipe/

Mr. Sanders is from the New Jersey school of Italian red sauce cooking that believes in a slow, all-day simmer for the spaghetti sauce. We start these projects before noon on Sunday, and by six or seven that evening the sauce is almost ready. It will be better the next time, after it has had a chance to rest in the vat in the fridge for 18 hours, and then sits on a low burner for all of Monday afternoon. It also helps to have a cooking assistant who works from home.

This is close to Mr. Sanders’ recipe. He browns the meatballs in a frying pan (when I dare make my own Fairfield County version, I bake the meatballs). He uses lots more garlic, and no onion or sugar. https://www.thespruceeats.com/italian-sausage-and-meatball-sauce-for-pasta-3061156

Spaghetti sauce is a visit home, to the before times, when we wish we had paid more attention to how our parents cooked. We are always trying to replicate those tastes and have another visit in the family kitchen. It’s going to be a long winter, so stock up on some cans of tomatoes, and join me at the kitchen counter. Smell that garlic!

There are lots of grandmother-y recipes are out there on the internets. Find one that seems to be what you remember, and make it your own. You’ll sleep better.
https://www.mantitlement.com/grandmas-sunday-meatballs-and-sauce/

https://food52.com/recipes/81663-sunday-sauce-recipe

https://www.cookingwithnonna.com/italian-cuisine/spaghetti-with-sausage-meatballs.html

“Bubble, bubble, pasta pot,
Boil me some pasta, nice and hot,
I’m hungry and it’s time to sup,
Boil enough pasta to fill me up.”
-Tomie DePaola, Strega Nona

Happy 2022! Congratulations, we have survived the holidays, the virtual celebrations, the Zoom group chats, the driveway Yankee swaps, The Christmas Story movie marathon and getting countless COVID tests. 2022 is going to be great, once we shovel off the sidewalk again. In 2022 our resolutions are to learn to relax, and to be patient, kind and forgiving.

Christmas baking can be very stressful. I did not bake one single batch of presentable Spritz cookies this year. Please keep in mind that Spritz cookies are considered an easy peasy bake. They are the stuff of elementary school bake sales. Mine were disgraceful. One batch melted into golden puddles. Another refused to be extruded from the press. The last ordeal was a long ribbon, that I cut with a knife and covered with gobbets of hot chocolate ganache. Yet, all the cookies were gobbled up. Every one. But I was mortified that I could not bake a single, photogenic, Martha-staff-perfect, little butter cookie mouthful of sugar and butter. My intended audience didn’t seem to mind. They chuckled at the failures, and Hoovered them up with indiscriminate, ravenous abandon. Fee, fie, fo, fum. They didn’t seem to mind the imperfections one bit. The crumbs they left behind were too tiny for any little Who mouses.

Fine baking is a science, as we are often reminded. We must weigh and measure carefully. We must roll layers gently. Don’t forget to chill the dough. Conversely, let some dough rise in a warm corner of the kitchen. Personally, I don’t have a non-drafty kitchen corner. I let the Friday night pizza dough rise in the microwave – it is protected from drafts there, and it is out of my way, under the counter. Sometimes dinner prep is hurried, and the conditions are less than ideal. Sometimes I am not ready to devote the time necessary to magically manipulate a nicely fluted pie crust. And in 2022 I will no longer apologize for the lack of perfection in my baking. Because I have discovered galettes.

Polymorphous and free-form, as many of my Christmas cookies turned out to be, galettes make for a transformative evening meal. Savory galettes are delightful for supper, with lots of leftovers for lunch, which is always our aim at the Spy Test Kitchens: cook once, eat twice. It leaves lots of time for reading books, walking the dog, and listening to podcasts. Fruit galettes are excellent for dessert, and breakfast – what a charming way to start the new year!

Galettes are as easy and inviting, as warm and filling, as any perfectly fashioned little pot pie. And no one needs to bring a T-square or a pie crimper or a camera to the galette prep counter – we will eyeball measurements, fold and pinch with glee, and will have a nice warm, winter meal. (Sadly, in our house we are experiencing Dry January, so you have the cheap white wine without us.)

I love a nice, piping hot leek and potato galette. Bon Appétit makes it fancy by adding raw pistachios to the dough, but if you don’t want to mask up to go back out in the snow, a regular, store-bought, in-the-freezer pie crust will also do. The filling is still heavenly: https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/goat-cheese-leek-and-potato-galette-with-pistachio-crust Bon Appétit specializes in fast and delicious galettes: https://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/slideshow/galette-recipes

And here are other veggie ideas: https://www.seriouseats.com/how-to-make-savory-vegetable-galettes

Fruit galettes, especially with puff pastry, will seem very festive and fancy: https://yogaofcooking.co/easy-puff-pastry-apple-galette/

Our friends at Food52 know that we are rushed off our feet, and barely have time to crack open the Internet for a recipe, so they suggest recipe-free galettes, using what’s on hand: vegetables, eggs, cheese. If you root around your fridge, I bet you will find a lot of interesting items. I just found a baggie of Parmesan that I grated for spaghetti last night, a leek, a chunk of Jarlsberg, a cooked boneless chicken breast, 2 rashers of thick bacon, and in the pantry, a few little new potatoes. Yumsters! Dinner is almost ready. https://food52.com/blog/11538-how-to-make-any-savory-galette-without-a-recipe

2021 was a tough year, so let’s put it behind us. As charity begins at home, it can start off in that drafty kitchen. Try to have something nice for dinner tonight. And it will taste just as wonderful for lunch tomorrow. Take good care of yourself!

“A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.”
― Graham Greene

This is a slightly updated rehash of a column I wrote a couple of years ago for New Year’s Eve. This year we are hanging around the house, reading our Christmas books and watching movies and thinking lazily about New Year’s resolutions. I think we will approach 2022 with modest expectations and goals, and hope for the best. Wear your masks, wash your hands, socially distance, get your boosters and have a very Happy New Year, Gentle Readers!

This New Year’s Eve I am kicking back with gin and Champagne (probably Prosecco because we are starting a New Year’s Resolution Budget).

Prosecco or Champagne? It’s a personal choice. I am hugely impressed by a stately bottle of Veuve Clicquot, and would probably serve it to Mr. Hudson, the butler from Upstairs, Downstairs, if he ever came to call. But I find a pretty orange label on a bottle of Mionetto Prosecco just as appealing.

Recently we found the most delightful Mumm Napa Brut Rosé, on sale. There is nothing so frivolous as a glass full of bubbling pink fizz. So keep your eyes peeled for a sale. You’ll thank me.

The Christmas cookies are almost gone. In the meantime, it is Friday night, and it has been a long week. It’s the last time to indulge in 2021. Instead pouring a glass of my usual cheap winter plonk, I thought I should test some seasonal, perhaps New Year’s Eve-ish cocktail recipes, to get back into the holiday spirit. These are crowd pleasers, but they require a little planning.

“The feeling of friendship is like that of being comfortably filled with roast beef; love is like being enlivened with Champagne.”
– Samuel Johnson

French 75s
This is my go-to cocktail. Finally, I can sound adult and have a drink at a bar (when we aren’t staying home because of COVID) that isn’t too giggly-sounding. Cosmos are deelish, but they don’t sound sophisticated. French 75s are essentially cool and adult.

“Hits with remarkable precision.”
-Harry Craddock, The Savoy Cocktail Book

2 ounces gin
1 ounce lemon juice
1 spoonful extra fine sugar
Champagne
Shake the gin, lemon juice and sugar in a cocktail shaker filled with cracked ice until chilled and well-mixed and then pour into tall glass containing cracked ice and fill up the glass with Champagne.

This clever cocktail was said to have been devised during WWI, the kick from the alcohol combo being described as powerful as the French 75mm howitzer gun.

“Meeting Franklin Roosevelt was like opening your first bottle of Champagne; knowing him was like drinking it.”
-Winston Churchill

Champagne Cocktail
In a Champagne glass add a teaspoon of sugar and enough Angostura bitters to melt the sugar.
Add a tablespoon of Grand Marnier or cognac and mix in with the sugar, bitters mix.
Add a “fine” quality Champagne and stir. Float a slice of thin orange on top.
This is what Ilsa and Victor Laszlo sipped in Casablanca.

“Too much of anything is bad, but too much Champagne is just right.”
-Mark Twain

As always, our festive friends at Food52 have some delightful ideas for nibbles to help soak up some of the bubbly we are sure to be drinking on New Year’s Eve. http://www.food52.com/blog/2807

On a pre-COVID trip to food-forward-thinking-Charleston, friends ordered the Aperol and Prosecco cocktail, because they are oh, so trendy. I did not realize that this is the most popular cocktail in Italy. And now it can be one of yours, too!

Aperol and Prosecco
3 parts chilled, dry Prosecco
2 parts Aperol
1 splash soda
Serve with on the rocks in wine glass or rocks glass
Garnish with a slice of orange (this makes it practically health food!)
http://www.eater.com/2014/10/21/7020183/the-story-of-the-aperol-spritz-a-classic-italian-cocktail

This is very pretty, and so seasonal: Pomegranate Mimosas.
Yumsters. http://www.delish.com/cooking/recipe-ideas/recipes/a46968/pomegranate-mimosas-recipe/

“My only regret in life is that I didn’t drink enough Champagne”
-John Maynard Keynes

And the best of both worlds: a Black Velvet! Champagne and Guinness.
This drink is simply equal parts stout and sparkling wine, and to be honest, there are some who will never understand its appeal. But to fans, this is a perfect special-occasion drink, particularly suited to mornings and late afternoons. I had my first on a gelid night in London, at Rules, in Covent Garden. Divine.

Black Velvet
4 ounces (1/2 cup) chilled Champagne or Prosecco
4 ounces (1/2 cup) chilled Guinness Extra Stout
Pour the Champagne into a tall glass. We first had ours served in heavy pewter tankards, but at home we eschew the delicate flutes for a sturdy rocks glass. This is not an effete drink. It is robust, and fills your hand with determination. Be sure to pour the Guinness on top. (This is important: Guinness is heavier. If you pour the sparkling wine second, it won’t combine evenly, and will need to be stirred. I shudder at the thought!)

Enjoy yourself this weekend. Happy New Year! And let the games begin, again, on Monday.

“Why do I drink Champagne for breakfast? Doesn’t everyone?”
-Noel Coward

We are fomenting a full-blown winter holiday frenzy right now. I stood in line at the post office yesterday, with my arms full of brown paper packages, although the USPS frowns on them being tied up with string these days. I stirred up a bucket o’Chex Mix yesterday, mixed up some fudge the day before, and the day before that I unearthed the ancestral Gingersnaps recipe, and rolled out a few dozen cookies. We are ticking off the boxes of the old and the familiar, hoping to bring a little cheer to the COVID world we inhabit.

For most of my career I have worked from home. Before COVID, I was merely a freelancer; now there is a Twitter-worthy acronym for it: WFH. My job was not trendy or aspirational, then. Between freelance gigs I did have a five-year stint working full time at the local daily newspaper, which was not the cinematic Ron Howard stuff of Hollywood dreams, although it did result in nightmares about missed deadlines which still jolt me awake. Night terrors and deadlines aside, I think we all enjoyed the office parties. Colleagues can become so reasonable, and human, when they are scarfing down a slice of cake. Folks who were otherwise taciturn, and weird, were positively garrulous waxing poetical about their homemade meatballs, or their artichoke dip. Homemade food brought out everyone’s humanity. I really miss going to parties. I’d make it a point now to even talk to the loud cops’ reporter or the squirrelly accountant from circulation, if given the chance.

If I was going to have an office party today I wouldn’t try for fancy canapés. I would prepare finger foods that everyone loves, but rarely make at home. Some foods need to be eaten by a crowd. A single serving of pigs-in-a-blanket looks very sad and lonely. But add some deviled eggs, a few sausage balls, a fistful of Christmas cookies and a fortifying cup of eggnog, I think you will find a winter celebration party that is going in full swing.

Get out a tablecloth, spring for some cocktail napkins, stock up on eggnog. There are lots of holiday playlists on Spotify and Pandora. Keep some baking sheets warming in the oven so you don’t run low, and arrange some chafing dishes on the dining room table. This is not just another Zoom cocktail party, after all. Invite a few of your WFH pals (who are responsibly vaxxed and boosted) over to enjoy a socially distant winter solstice holiday party. Mask up, but dig out a Santa hat and some Christmas ornament earrings. (Hide the mistletoe!) Party on.

Crowd pleasers in perpetuity- Deviled Eggs: https://themodernproper.com/deviled-eggs

This is also what we make ahead of time to have on Christmas morning- Sausage Balls: https://www.pauladeen.com/recipe/sausage-balls/

Sometimes my children would forget their manners, and would stand in front of the Pigs-in-a-blanket platter and graze: https://www.pillsbury.com/recipes/mini-crescent-dogs/e8abc84e-8a0e-42d6-ae7e-23b677a161ac

One of my art directors made this for every single party – she always went home with the crock pot licked clean: https://bellyfull.net/grape-jelly-meatballs/

Crock pots were big in our department- Spinach Artichoke Dip: https://www.asouthernsoul.com/crock-pot-spinach-artichoke-dip/

Christmas demands Red Velvet cupcakes: https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/red-velvet-cupcakes-with-coconut-and-cream-cheese-frosting

“A party without cake is just a meeting”
-Julia Child

I stopped by the post office yesterday, before 9:00, before the counter was open, to pick up some stamps from the machine in the lobby, and already there was a queue of grim folks, arms full of awkward holiday parcels. That was on December 9 – Christmas is still a couple of weeks away. The U.S. Postal Service has announced we should have all our packages in the system by December 15 if we have even the vaguest hope that they will arrive by the 25th. There is no more dilly dallying. This weekend is our last shot. I just love the threat of imminent holiday disaster.

I’ve given up on perusing gift guides, which ordinarily can be amusing time wasters. Ordinarily I love looking at the luxury items I will not be buying for myself – or others. In our new world, where we can’t spend afternoons pleasantly in brick and mortar stores for fear of COVID and Omicron, I have been looking at the many shopping lists provided by publications I read. The New York Times has its Wirecutter – an excellent resource for electronics and the practical – they review porch furniture, laptop computers, steak knives and linen sheets among scads of important life choices. New York Magazine’s Strategist is a little more frivolous and light-hearted: life-altering mascaras, the best inexpensive underwear, scented candles, and shoe sales of a lifetime. These are both enjoyable rabbit holes. But according to the USPS we don’t have any more time for that nonsense. No more day dreaming. It’s time for action: we have to kick into gear, and get baking.

For those of you for whom I usually send a rude Christmas tea towel or a thoughtfully chosen British murder mystery – stop reading now. I am about to reveal all. Avert your eyes, and read up on the Chesapeake Film Festival instead.

This weekend I am having a bake-a-thon, and will be whipping up batches of Christmas cookies, so I can go join the queue at the post office on Monday with my boxes of home-baked Christmas cookies. I won’t be a sour puss, though. I will have my arms full of sweetness for my loved ones.

I love fancy cookies. Give me a fistful of pastel-colored macarons any day. Let me enjoy artfully piped royal frosting. Show me an abundance of tooth-cracking silver dragées, and fancy dusting sugars. And now – let’s talk reality. The best home-made cookies remind us of our own childhoods. We baked homely cookies that always looked a little wonky, but the best part was sampling them as we went along. Remember all those tiny tastes of dough and batter and icing? Ostensibly, we were learning how to decide if there was enough salt or vanilla or ginger in our mixtures. Remember smelling the cookies as they baked? Or that terrible aroma of burnt sugar cookie? There were so many lessons to be learned in a single afternoon.

Production and assembly-line cookies are the easiest cookies for children, and consequently their adults. Mix, scoop, bake, repeat. Think of Mr. Gilbreth and Cheaper by the Dozen. And think of chocolate chip cookies, and gingersnaps and snowball cookies. Chocolate chip cookies call for uniform scoops of dough onto parchment paper-covered sheet pans. I bake a couple of batches of chocolate chip cookies every month. The dough freezes nicely, so there is never a cookie shortage in this house. I scoop all the batter, freeze the balls, and can dip into the freezer whenever there is a situation that calls for chocolate. This is my favorite recipe. I consider the addition of oatmeal to make it health food. https://food52.com/recipes/78188-chewy-chocolate-chip-cookies

I always thought this was my mother’s recipe, but it turns out it is her sister’s. Either way, I am related to it, and I approve of these gingersnaps.

Gingersnaps

Makes approximately 3 dozen cookies
Pre-heat the oven to 350°F

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon ground ginger
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
Sift together the dry ingredients above. This is crucial – follow the steps here.

Add the dry ingredients to:
3/4 cup softened butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses

Mix thoroughly. Roll mixture into small balls and then roll the balls in a bowl of granulated sugar. Flatten the balls onto parchment paper-lined cookie sheets with a small glass. Bake for 12-15 minutes. Cool on racks. They are quite delicious with a nice cold glass of milk. We just loved rolling the balls in the little Pyrex bowls of sugar, and then flattening the balls with jelly jars. Sometimes we would get creative, and use a drinking straw to make a hole in the flattened cookie – so we could use a ribbon and hang it from the Christmas tree.

Like many of the best secret family recipes, Snowball Cookies come from the Land O’Lakes test kitchens. They are tasty, reliable, and easy to make: https://www.landolakes.com/recipe/20055/snowball-cookies/

This is another family stalwart: Fudge. I love watching fudge being made in shops, on long marble-topped tables. At home, I prefer the easiest and most reliable method: following the recipe on the Carnation Sweetened Condensed Milk label. This year I am crushing some candy canes to add for a colorful, minty-fresh topping: https://www.verybestbaking.com/carnation/recipes/carnation-famous-fudge/

I made a disastrous batch of spritz cookies a couple of weeks ago. I discovered if you leave out the rising agent, the dough does not rise. It spreads itself thin, into buttery pools all over the cookie sheet. I am going to be much more careful this weekend. https://food52.com/recipes/15350-holiday-spritz-cookies

Baking cookies is therapeutic. You can relive some childhood memories, while creating some new ones, too. And you can share the holiday love. Leave some cookies for your letter carrier. Bring a plate across the street. We live in stressful times, and sometimes it is nice to pour a glass of milk, and sit down with a plate of crisp, sugary indulgence.

“Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky.”
–Fran Lebowitz

“Many hands make light work.” Ha! Two hands can make a lot of dirty dishes.

The “many hands” bromide – is that something I remember from my New England upbringing? Or was it Laura Ingalls Wilder twisting hay to provide warmth, ensuring the family’s survival through the Long Winter? Or was it Jo March upbraiding herself while scuttling some coal for the downtrodden Hummel family? Nope. Around here, the philosophy seems to be, one set of hands can make a mess. Never mind. I’ve got dishes to wash.

I had imagined that after all the multi-course, multi-chef, multiple-dish cooking we did for Thanksgiving that life would simplify itself. That we would go recipe-less. Carefree dinners that seemingly cooked themselves, or in the merest flash, as the New York Times food editors keep assuring me is possible. One-pot, one-pan dinners that shopped for themselves. Dinners with three ingredients or fewer, that would be delicious and nutritious. I have swallowed hook, line and sinker the fantasy, (though much-photographed) life of Martha Stewart. I forget that she has a staff of off-screen minions, and she undoubtedly swans out of one house when the sink fills up with dishes, and is teleported to another, so she can start all over again. And she probably does it in backwards and in high heels. I am sporting yoga leggings and sneakers, looking at the sink, full of pots, pans, dishes, spoons, mixing bowls and measuring cups. All of the detritus you see in the illustration came from one dinner: turkey soup, made from one leftover turkey.

The soup took an entire afternoon to prepare, and then another afternoon to simmer. It is a good thing that I work from home, so I could keep an eye on its progress. I do prefer working in my studio, though, instead of pecking out my tales of woe sitting at the kitchen island, cataloging the number of times I have wiped down the counters, mopped up the floor, chased the ever-hopeful scrap-begging dog away. I am about ready to get in the car and head for McDonald’s. A burger that someone else has cooked is my new epicurean fantasy. With an order of exquisitely hot and salty fries, please.

Everyone has a family recipe for turkey soup. My mother was of the age that thumped the Joy of Cooking as their sacred cook book. Irma Rombauer is a little vague about turkey soup. She talks about chicken broth – “A good dish for a convalescent, but not to be scorned by those in the best of health.” Then she generalizes about poultry stock and calls for 4 pounds of poultry, 4 quarts of water, white peppercorns, a bay leaf, thyme, cloves, parsley, an onion, celery and a diced carrot. Then 3 hours of simmering, skimming, and fussing. Followed by dishwashing.
https://www.recipelink.com/msgbrd/board_0/2005/OCT/74187.html

Mark Bittman is the logical next step. Once you have the stock, follow his instructions for leftover turkey soup: Turkey-Noodle Soup With Star Anise and Ginger
 “Cook chopped onion, carrot, celery, garlic and ginger in neutral oil until soft, then add chicken or turkey stock, and a few pieces of whole star anise, and bring to a boil. Cook udon or soba noodles in boiling salted water until almost done; drain and stir them into the soup, along with shredded turkey; heat through, and discard the star anise before serving. Garnish: Scallions.” https://www.markbittman.com/recipes-1/what-to-do-with-all-those-thanksgiving-leftovers

Martha’s method is pretty straightforward: https://www.marthastewart.com/856044/turkey-noodle-soup

As always, I love the way the folks at Food52 think. They suggest using store-bought stock. What an excellent concept! Had I followed this recipe I might have cut down on a few dozen dirty pots and pans: https://food52.com/recipes/84466-best-turkey-soup-recipe

This Craig Claiborne and Pierre Franey recipe from the New York Times is NOT a one-pan dish. It beats the Joy of Cooking list of ingredients by a mile, at least:

INGREDIENTS
THE STOCK:
3 ½ pounds cooked turkey bones from which most of the meat has been removed
Pieces of leftover cooked turkey skin
16 cups water
½ cup or more leftover giblet gravy, optional
1 bay leaf
6 sprigs fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried
2 cups coarsely chopped celery tops
1 cup coarsely chopped scraped carrots
1 cup coarsely chopped peeled onion
1 cup coarsely chopped green part of leeks
6 parsley sprigs
Salt to taste, if desired
Freshly ground pepper to taste

THE GARNISHES:
2 cups carrots, scraped and cut into 1/4-inch dice
2 cups celery, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 ½ cups finely chopped white part of leeks
½ cup finely chopped peeled onion
2 cups fresh red, ripe tomatoes, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 cups zucchini, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
½ teaspoon finely minced garlic
½ cup orzo (rice-shaped Greek pasta)
1 cup corn kernels, fresh or frozen
1 cup cooked turkey, white or dark meat, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
¼ cup finely chopped parsley
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

PREPARATION
Put the bones in a kettle and add any leftover turkey skin.
Add the water, giblet gravy, bay leaf, thyme, celery tops, coarsely chopped carrots, coarsely chopped onion, green part of leeks, parsley, salt and pepper. Bring to the boil and let simmer one hour. As the broth cooks, skim off and discard any scum, foam and fat that rises to the surface.
Strain the broth into a clean kettle, discarding the solids, and skim off all fat from the top. Bring to the boil and add the diced carrots, diced celery, white part of leeks, finely chopped onion, tomatoes, zucchini and garlic. Let simmer about 10 minutes, then add the orzo. Continue cooking five minutes and add the corn kernels and cubed turkey meat. Continue cooking 15 minutes. Stir in the parsley. Serve with the grated Parmesan cheese on the side.

https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/517-turkey-soup

Good luck to you if you choose the last recipe. I’ll bring you some fries.

“Dishes are one of the tools that support life. Please take great care when using them.”
― Shoukei Matsumoto

Thanksgiving Day can be a long slog of cooking and cleaning. I think muscle memory kicks in for a lot of us: locating the cooking pans, scrubbing the potatoes, polishing the silver, chilling the wine, arguing about the gravy. Remembering the disasters of Thanksgivings Past. Ah, the year we forgot the green beans. The time the newly-declared vegan poured turkey gravy all over her mashed potatoes and asked for extra butter. The year we couldn’t get an orphan guest out of the door and off the property fast enough. The years of new babies suddenly falling asleep, and the silence was as golden as the candlelight. Those were the days!

This year, in these times of COVID, we are going to be a little more kid-oriented for Thanksgiving. We’ve all had our shots, but we are keeping to a small, family-pod. We are thrilled to see each other, and we don’t need an elaborate feast. It’s pretty easy roasting a turkey, we just need to remember the basics like removing the turkey giblets, turning the oven on, setting the timer and then setting the table. Eventually the other pieces will fall into place. The cooking time of 15 minutes per pound for the turkey allows for a walk, a puzzle, a craft, or raking leaves.

Next Wednesday, while others are plaiting their decorative pie crusts with British Bakeoff concentration, I am going to be holding a doughnut baking session with a 7-year-old. He is growing up near a very fancy bakery where maple bacon glazed doughnuts, tiered cakes, Napoleons, eclairs and profiteroles are part of the ordinary, daily fair. I hope to keep his attention for half an hour as we mix up some humble, home-baked, glazed pumpkin doughnuts. They will tick off the need for a pumpkin item on the Thanksgiving day menu, and will be tasty and healthy-ish for breakfast. Which means we can indulge in some fancy Bakeoff contender for dessert.

I always imagine the doughnut making process to be part Sorcerer’s Apprentice, part Homer Price – lots of moving parts and hot grease and general pandemonium, as well as being a kabillion calories. There is just not enough calorie burning in leave raking to justify eating the maple bacon glazed hot fresh doughnut of my imagination. Luckily, we are staying close to reality with these pumpkin doughnuts, which are also seasonal and aromatic. You can be stodgy and leave off the glaze – or you can be wicked and crumble up a little bacon.

If you do not have doughnut molds, never fear. You can use muffin pans – with cupcake paper liners. You won’t get quite the same satisfaction as tipping out a fresh warm doughnut, but we are meant to eat them anyway we can. And so we shall. But I will say that our silicon doughnut molds are a miracle. (The Spy Test Kitchens do not benefit from this product endorsement, but I must say they are much easier to deal with than the non-silicone gingerbread house mold I disastrously bought last year: https://www.amazon.com/Walfos-Silicone-Donut-Mold-Dishwasher/dp/B08FHRGKW3/ref=sr_1_1_sspa? )

Baked Pumpkin Doughnuts

For the doughnut dough:
1 ⅔ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon baking soda
1 cup granulated sugar
½ cup vegetable oil
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup canned pumpkin purée
¼ cup whole milk

For the glaze:
1 cup confectioners’ sugar, plus more if needed
2 tablespoons whole milk, plus more if needed
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 375°F.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cinnamon, baking powder, salt, nutmeg and baking soda.

In a separate large bowl, whisk together the sugar and oil. Add the eggs and vanilla extract, and whisk until the mixture is thick and yellow, 1 to 2 minutes. Whisk in the pumpkin purée until smooth and combined.

Sift half the dry ingredients into the wet and stir until just combined. Add the milk and stir to combine.

Sift in the remaining dry ingredients and stir until just combined.

Use a 1/4 cup measuring cup to pour batter into each doughnut cavity. Bake until the doughnuts are browned, separating from the edges of the pan, and springy when touched, 20 to 25 minutes.

Remove the pans from the oven and transfer them to a wire rack to cool for 5 minutes. Remove the doughnuts from the pans and allow to cool completely for about 30 minutes.

As the doughnuts cool, make the glaze: In a medium bowl, combine confectioners’ sugar, milk and vanilla extract and whisk to combine until desired consistency. The glaze should drip slowly, not run, down the sides of the doughnut; add more milk if needed to thin it or more confectioners’ sugar if needed to thicken it.

Working one at a time, dip the top half of each cooled doughnut into the vanilla glaze. Serve immediately, or let cool completely, then store in an airtight container in a single layer for up to 3 days. Mr. Sanders was very popular in the office the day he brought in my doughnut experiments.

https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1021629-baked-pumpkin-doughnuts

Here is a gluten-free version, just in case: https://www.allergicliving.com/recipes/glazed-pumpkin-doughnuts/

If you want to go the Sorcerer’s Apprentice-frying route, please feel free: https://www.biggerbolderbaking.com/pumpkin-donuts-recipe/

The Spy Test Kitchens, Luke the wonder dog and Mr. Sanders all hope you have a safe and memorable Thanksgiving. (It’s not all about the food. One of my fondest Thanksgiving memories is sitting jet lagged, side-by-side on a hotel bed in London with my daughter, amid a welter of British newspapers and London maps, chowing down on cold Pret a Manger Pilgrim sandwiches.) Don’t forget the giblets or the beans, be sure to have enough wine, and take the time to eat some doughnuts. You’ll want to remember this Thanksgiving next year.

“By the time Uncle Ulysses and the sheriff arrived and pushed through the crowd, the lunchroom was a calamity of doughnuts! Doughnuts in the window, doughnuts piled high on the shelves, doughnuts stacked on plates, doughnuts lined up twelve deep all along the counter, and doughnuts still rolling down the little chute, just as regular as a clock can tick.”
― Robert McCloskey, Homer Price

Forget about Santa – I’m keeping some lists that are so long and detailed that they will make his jolly old elf’s head spin. For Thanksgiving, we are buzzing out of town to a lake house rental with our daughter, her partner, and their two little boys. As far as I can tell, in the kitchen, beyond the basics, there is a commercial popcorn machine, which seems to be the sole added kitchen accoutrement. It might be a little tricky cooking a traditional Thanksgiving dinner this year.

I scrawl ideas and things to remember on post-its, on the backs of envelopes, and inside a marbled composition notebook optimistically labeled: THANKSGIVING 2021. I send myself texts. As an aide-mémoire I remind Mr. Sanders that we can’t forget the candles, vases, electric carving knife, gravy separator, insert-something-that-can’t-be-bought-for-love-or-money on Thanksgiving Day. Lately Mr. Sanders nods quite a lot, and tries to change the subject.

Gravy boat/ladle
Roasting pan
Champagne glasses
Turkey hat

The gravy boat lives on a shelf in the kitchen, on display with some other ornamental china. Twice a year it is taken down, washed, used briefly, and then is returned to its shelf. I suppose a rental house Pyrex measuring cup will serve gravy just as ably, but the aesthetics of a 7-year-old and a 19-month-old are just forming! We want them to grow up couth and somewhat cultured. Good china is a necessity.

Roasting pan. I know. We could skinny by using an aluminum foil pan from the grocery store. But they are flimsy, and not very Instagramable. We, the Spy Test Kitchens, have to keep up appearances. When we pull the turkey out of the oven, the kitchen will be suddenly crowded with extra cooks, all with opinions and ideas of their own. It’s best to have some control over the turkey pan.

Champagne glasses. We have an inexpensive set from Ikea that we like to take when we go on family holiday adventures. Sure, the Prosecco would taste fine in VRBO jelly glasses, but there is a nice feeling when we clink glasses over a meal that has taken us all day to pull together. Peace is restored. And for a few minutes, in the candlelight, we look all-American.

Every year we buy a new, plush turkey hat for the youngest among us to wear on Thanksgiving. We should have a hall closet’s worth of hats by now. Mysteriously, they seem to disappear annually. Maybe one of the newer family members, who has a distinct Swedish modern, no-clutter vibe, discretely tosses the hat. Never fear. It is on my Amazon “Save for Later” list.

Matches
Candles
Tablecloths
Books to read to the boys

Every year we have to prepare the traditional holiday favorites: turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, beans and pies. In the not too distant past we proudly served cranberry relish, in one perfect, intact piece, showcasing the distinctive can ridges deeply molded in the shiny jelly. We used the ancestral relish dish which seemed negate our plebeian ways. Now, we have added new blood to the family, and have acquired better optics. This year we will be baking some cranberry muffins for Thanksgiving breakfast. Much more civilized. Much more presentable. Maybe we’ll sneak the relish dish in at the last minute, just to enjoy our Ocean Spray tradition. Those boys are still malleable.

Markers
Crayons
Elmer’s Glue
Construction paper

If you simply cannot face the idea of baking cranberry muffins from scratch on Thanksgiving morning, there is no shame in buying a box of muffin mix. Just recycle the packaging before anyone else totters into the kitchen looking for morning coffee. (This Julia Child quotation is adaptable to almost every kitchen situation: “Always remember: If you’re alone in the kitchen and you drop the lamb, you can always just pick it up. Who’s going to know?”) If you want to impress the new family members, roll up your sleeves, put a smile on your face, and remember, there will be Prosecco in just a few short hours.

Pizza stone
Rolling pin
Pizza cutter
00 Flour
(We are not going to skip Friday Night Pizza just because we have Thanksgiving leftovers!)

Here is a recipe from Ocean Spray for your own scratch, home-baked muffins. They will be tasty any morning. https://www.oceanspray.com/en/Recipes/By-Course/Breads-and-Muffins/Cranberry-Muffins

Don’t forget: “We don’t need lists of rights and wrongs, tables of dos and don’ts: we need books, time, and silence. Thou shalt not is soon forgotten, but Once upon a time lasts forever.”
–Philip Pullman