Corpse Reviver No. 1. Photo by Alchemy & A Twist
We live in a divided country.
No, I am not talking about politics, but about Thanksgiving and the great, forever-unsettled debate over what is the centerpiece of the holiday table. As with our political system, there are only two options in this contest: There’s the camp that casts their vote for turkey, while the other party rallies for the side dishes. Although never the twain shall meet, at least we all can agree that Thanksgiving is all about the food, whether it’s the turkey or the sides. (For the record, I campaign for the side dishes.)
As a result, drinks don’t get much attention at Thanksgiving, other than from wine journalists who every November recycle an article on the theme of yet another forever-unsettled Thanksgiving debate: which style of wine can successfully take on the the wide range of foods crowding the table (Brussels sprouts, marshmallows, cranberries, gravy, sweet potatoes, and so much more), often with flavors as discordant as your political views and Aunt Nellie, who’s sitting right next to you at the adult table? These wine writers usually make a few specific suggestions, depending on what’s trending that year, but their message to hosts unusually is: make sure there’s plenty of wine (with the vast amount of food being served, the amount of wine shouldn’t be any less) and that there’s a style available for everyone--red, white, and even rose and sparkling. In my mind, hard cider (so seasonal and does a stellar job of going with a variety of food) and beer should be included in the drinks menu.
With the beverages settled for dinner--lots of it and lots of variety--what about what to drink before sitting down to the table? And what about something for dessert? And for after the meal to help settle stomachs, if not your political arguments with Aunt Nellie. Wine can’t handle all this.
Actually, wine would be a fine--and easy-peasy--aperitif, to sip while nibbling on appetizers, but it’s a holiday, and an American one at that, so let’s offer something a bit more distinctive--and American-- than a ho-hum glass of wine, like a cocktail, which is even more American than apple pie. Mixing up something pre-batched makes a lot of sense so that you, as host, don’t have to worry about fixing drinks while also scrambling in the kitchen to get the food out in time to the dining room. That’s why wine usually takes this role as all you have to do is uncork a bottle and and pour. Guests can even do it for themselves.This is why a pre-batched cocktail, served in a pretty pitcher, can be a festive way to bump wine off the stage--just as easy-peasy as wine, if prepped beforehand.
Any of the cocktails that I suggested in my recent blog about autumn-time cocktails, would be an excellent way to go. I might be partial to the Applejack Cobbler since it has almost all the makings of a Thanksgiving dinner, minus the turkey: cranberries, apple brandy and apple schnapps, and pomegranate molasses. And the amount of cranberry syrup that you are directed to prepare for the drink, whether for a solo tippler or for a crowd, is enough to make 8 drinks. Just multiply the other ingredients (orange slice, applejack, sweet vermouth, apple schnapps, bitters, and pomegranate molasses) by eight and put everything into a pitcher and give a good stir. Stir again before serving to dredge up the cranberry syrup which will settle at the bottom.
For sure, no one will have wine for dessert, unless you’re French or Italian and have cheese before dessert. Or if you're British and have cheese after dessert, which I still can’t wrap my head around even though I love cheese and have British parents. A fortified wine--port, sherry, madeira, pinneau--would be divine, but let’s give a cocktail a go for this course, too. The Great Pumpkin is almost dessert onto itself. One Thanksgiving I shook them before the meal, as I suggested you do for the Applejack Cobbler, but that was a big mistake. The Great Pumpkin is so creamy and scrumptious that one of my guests consumed three of them, which left him both too drunk and too full (he more or less drank the equivalent of an omelet) to enjoy the holiday meal. From this experience, I now think that serving it after the meal is the way to go. Or perhaps a pumpkin liqueur hot toddy.
After a cocktail and nibbles, dinner and wine, dessert and a creamy connotation, everyone is surely stuffed. A drink to the rescue! In the tradition of European digestifs, there’s the Reanimator (rye and amaro) or Corpse Reviver No. 1 (cognac or armagnac, apple brandy, and sweet vermouth; most people know the lighter gin-based Corpse Reviver #2, which I sacrilegiously suggest as an Easter Cocktail). These drinks were originally created as hangover helpers, but they will do quite nicely as a way to bring your stomach back to life so that you can eat a turkey sandwich a couple of hours later if that’s your thing, which for most Americans it is. It’s not Thanksgiving unless you stuff yourself silly. Let a postprandial quaff help you in this mission.
Whether you are campaigning for the turkey or the sides, give pre- and postprandial cocktails a go this Thanksgiving. But more than anything, stay safe and keep others safe.
Happy Thanksgiving!