Turns out having a vegetarian guest isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a party planner. Catering to a vegetarian is actually pretty simple. All you have to do is sub out meat parts for mushroom, and sit them so as to avoid visual or physical contact with the turkey.
Gluten free guests on the other hand, are a whole different flavor of difficult. Everything in a traditional thanksgiving meal is bursting with gluteny goodness. The meal itself is a warm and inviting display of dietary traps and snares. A good hostess can’t have her guests breaking out in unseemly hives and rashes and falling asleep at the table because of a gluten tainted dish.
Pies, rolls, stuffing, gravy, hell even a green bean casserole typically has some kind of flour thickener. The only thing naturally sans gluten is an (unstuffed) turkey. And cranberry sauce. And whiskey.
And so I fretted and stressed, and spent days pouring over non-traditional dishes and gluten friendly alternatives, feeling very much like I was piecemeal abandoning my culinary integrity with each beloved ingredient I gave up.
Instead of flour I mentally substituted cornstarch, instead of bread and crackers at the appetizer station I bought gluten free rice crackers. I let go my beloved sourdough stuffing in place of New Cascadia Traditional’s gluten free wheat bread. That was the hardest, I think. Stuffing is my one true Thanksgiving love, and giving up the moist, delicious, savory bread dish as I know it nearly brought me to tears.
After the stuffing I couldn’t bear to sub out any more ingredients, so I began delegating the pain away.
To my dear Southern Miss, one of the unfortunately gluten-afflicted, I delegated the desserts. I couldn’t stand to be part of an almond flour/tapioca/unicorn-tear pie dough abomination. She wisely outsourced the crust to Petunia’s (gluten free pie crust is best left in the hands of wizards) and made the filling in true southern heart-clogging, mouth-watering, die a little inside, style. There was almost a fist fight over the last slice of pecan pie. Fortunately she’d made two and hidden the second in the oven. Crisis averted. Well done, Ambassador Lafayette.
To my dear pink haired lady friend, I delegated the non-cheese appetizer. Let them eat a vegetable with bacon, I decreed, and she made it so. Bacon stuffed mushrooms with New Cascadia bread filler and a dapper cap of broiled brown mozzarella. Zesty and delicious. Well done, Vegas, Well done.
My final menu was thus:
Roasted Beet Salad with Spinach, Chevre, and an Orange Vinaigrette
I’d wanted to start with something plated, to avoid that initial everyone reaching for a dish chaos, and because I’d forgotten all about the green bean casserole I’d meant to make. My helpers did an incredible job of prepping + plating in the 11th hour. Thank you, ladies.
Molasses Brined Turkey with savory herb butter
This was my second year brining a turkey. Last year I used Mr. Alton Brown’s recipe, and it’s a great place to start if you’ve never brined before. This year I was looking for something a bit more, Level 2. So I tried the molasses version, added pestle ground savory herb butter, enough aromatics to choke an elephant, and cooked the sucker in a freestanding convection oven from the 19somethings.
Guys, my face was literally blown off. LOOK at that beautiful beast.
Before this, I’d never seen juice run out of a turkey breast. Just the day before, I’d eaten turkey from mom’s roughly the texture and flavor of sidewalk chalk.
The men were tearing strips of turkey straight off the bird and mowing them down like jackals on the flatlands while I had my back turned. It was a damn good bird. Damn good.
Stuffing made with New Cascadia bread and Mushroom Stock in a Cast Iron Skillet
(Ha, knew it’d come into play somewhere, didn’t you? I’m such a loyalist.) The stuffing turned out a wee bit drier than I’d hoped, but going in next time I know to add more liquid than with regular bread. The cranberries, celery, apples, walnuts, mushrooms and onions held up their flavor/texture obligation admirably.
Heart Clogging Mashed Potatoes
Made with cream cheese, sour cream, butter, milk, ok fine, the whole dairy section, and other things that make your mouth happy and your arteries squinty. Boiled, assembled and then baked, they were melty, sinful, and delicious. Great job on the tater’s Platoon Leader McCarthy.
Paleo Sweet Potatoes with Maple Syrup
What to do with the sweet potatoes. On one hand I’ve got two southerners who’ll judge the ever living hell out of any northerner’s take on sweet potatoes, especially a not-southern-enough cavity inducing traditional sweet potato casserole. And on the other, a room full of adults who’ve give up their craving for gooey marshmallows and pounds of brown sugar in favor of living longer.
So I compromised. Boiled and mashed about 6 potatoes, added nutmeg, allspice, ground cloves, cinnamon, orange juice, orange zest, Grand Marnier, salt, and about a quarter cup of maple syrup, and got happy purrs from both teams. Victory so earned.
Mushroom Gravy
Made with cornstarch, mushrooms, and a healthy appreciation of a non-flesh palate. Tasty. Very tasty. Well done, Vegas.
Turkey Gravy
Made with white wine, onions, pan drippings, and vegetable stock, both gravies held up very well to the table critique. In fact, most people added the gravy to the stuffing and not the bird or the potatoes. Curious, but ok by me.
Cranberry Chutney
A tricky devil, the chutney. Too many fruit nuggets and you’ve made a salad, too few and you’ve got a watery sauce. Added a granny smith apple, one full orange (rind intact), cinnamon and cloves to a full bag of cranberries on the stove, stirred in a bit of Grand Marnier to finish, and sent it on it’s way.
Fizzy Pear Cider (whiskey spike optional)
1 32 oz bottle pear cider
3 12 oz bottles ginger beer
1 pear slice per cup
1 oz whiskey
Over the course of the day only two drinks were spilled, one votive holder shattered, one finger cut, and one major burn. The babies behaved beautifully, providing much needed adorableness and unexpected (but still adorable) shrill raptor screaming; the cheese plate was annihilated, the pies devoured to the best of our abilities, and much awkward and entertaining conversation was had.
I’m thankful to have such a great group of friends, all so very different, who are willing to put up with my “ok I’ve never made this before, so…” and inability to start dinner on time, for squashing around a table elbow to elbow, and doing cinnamon and orange slice tequila shots in an over-crowed, over-heated kitchen.
The painful cut + burns, the million dish loads, sleepless nights, the grocery bill, the hangover, and few extra pounds will always be worth it.
And Q, I found the bottles of wine you stashed around the house for me to find after the party. You’re the best.
Thanks to Ms. BVaughn, who took all these amazing photos. She’s the bees knees. Hire her.
