Although Thanksgiving has passed, I have ingredients beckoning me to remake the infamous orange rolls that don our Thanksgiving table year after year. In fact, they were made and presented on our family table long before I came along. I best check, but I am pretty sure I am third generation on these little savory sweet spirally gems and this year, my son became the fourth generation. He made these special orange rolls with me, knowing exactly what he was in for and just like I did when I was his age, he was looking forward to the stack of rolls he would enjoy over the course of Thanksgiving Day.

One cannot possibly eat enough of them, and should they ever replace a traditional pie-eating contest, many generations of my family—child after child plucking them out of a warm, cloth-lined basket—would not hesitate to line up and stuff orange rolls into their ready mouths. On good memories alone, their psychological preparedness, would equip them to out-eat any would-be orange roll competitor. Stand aside all you plain roll eaters, here come the orange roll inhalers!

This orange roll tradition was the basis of an annual plot to horde and to hide. I can speak for myself: my cousin and I would sit on a piano bench at the end of the Thanksgiving table and unbeknownst to the adults, would gorge on orange rolls. We would even hide some in napkins for later. As far as we were concerned, they were the main course and everything else was a ‘side.’

Orange Rolls
2 c Bisquick
1 egg beaten plus fresh OJ to make ¾ cup
1/4 c melted butter
1/2 c sugar
1/2 c orange zest (4 medium oranges)

Heat oven to 375. Mix Bisquick and egg/OJ mix; knead slightly and roll into 1/2 inch thick rectangle. Use Bisquick to flour countertop prior to rolling out dough (I skip the rolling and just use my fingers to press out a rough rectangle). Brush with melted butter, sprinkle with sugar orange peel mix. Roll up from one long side to the other, cut in 1 inch slices and place on oiled cookie sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes.

Luisa at The Wednesday Chef inspired me to write this post, after I read her scrumptuous description of Wheat and Cornmeal Cheese Rolls. Hats off to baskets of rolls adorning tables everywhere!

Slow roasted romas are so easy to make, so far in advance, and so beautiful going in and out of the oven. I like to make these oven-roasted Roma tomatoes to serve with rich dishes including pasta, soup or quiche. They happily sit next to eggs, on morning toast or in the middle of a noon-time sandwich. Last time I made these, I served them with homemade, oven-baked, paprika-topped macaroni and cheese.

Kids can make these: just supervise halving the tomatoes the long way—kids can use a miniature spoon OR their fingers to discard the seeds in each half. My son lined the baking sheet with aluminum foil, put on a glugg or two of olive oil and the herbs then lined the tray with tomatoes. (You may can these using proper canning methods).

Slow Roasted Romas
4 T extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt & coarse pepper (KS&CP)
4-5 cloves crushed/minced garlic
10 basil leaves, cut in chiffonade with scissors
10 Roma tomatoes, cut in half the long way, seeds removed
small pinch sugar
Optional: thyme and/or oregano

Note: Preheat oven to 200, line baking sheet with foil and add 2-3 T olive oil to foil. Add garlic, salt and pepper and herbs to oil, then spread around on foil. Cut romas in half lengthwise, scoop out seeds and place face down in oil and herbs. Brush tops of romas with olive oil, sprinkle with a little salt and sugar. Bake for 2 1/2 hours, flipping tomatoes halfway through; open oven briefly every 30 minutes to release excess moisture.

My turkey is sitting in brine. Not just any brine: 375ml of whiskey and a cup of sugar have been added to the regular salt-and-water bath. It is a big bird—I wonder if any fridge shelves have ever broken while brining a bird?

It is the day before Thanksgiving and I haven’t done anything, save pick up the house and buy the groceries. I feel like I should be in a panic, flying all over my house, sweat on my brow, bags under my eyes. But I am not stressed, not panicked and not liquored up (unlike the turkey).

This year is about tradition, and making the yummy side dishes that I grew up with. I even bought a can of cream of mushroom soup (low sodium for good measure), to go into that ‘green bean casserole.’ I might try to recreate it with organic beans and homemade soup next year—or maybe not. I am looking forward to the pile of cheeses and roasted chestnuts that will show up pre-meal, to whet our appetites. Served with red wine and sidecars (brandy, triple sec & fresh lemon juice served in a martini glass), our taste buds are sure to be ‘whet’ (besides, the drunken turkey had a full day head start).

I will make two stuffings, partly because I am afraid one might not be ‘to-die-for’ so I need a backup. Also because stuffing, in general, intrigues me, so it is my chance to play with two recipes instead of one. One has cornbread, chestnuts and sausage, the other is cranberry pecan bread toasted together with pancetta and sage. If they turn out fabulously, you will be the first to know.

One extra special detail is my use of heirloom silverware, or should I say gold-ware? My grandfather gave the silverware to my grandmother years and years ago. It has since come into my possession to have and to care for. They are dear, sweet people and will be remembered this Thanksgiving. They have graced many Thanksgivings in my life and are the cause of many good, longstanding memories.

At their table I shared a piano bench with a cousin, just so we could fit at the table. We would hoard piles of orange rolls, and stick to the green bean casserole and turkey while the adults ate that scary onion dish. We would play for hours, eat gobs of pie, visit, laugh and play some more.

Little did I know as a child that I was creating timeless, precious memories. Little did I know that time passes too quickly, things happen, people grow old beyond their memories and families move away. I am thankful for those memories, and realize that my own children are piecing together their Thanksgiving experiences one year at a time. I say keep the green beans, children’s laughter and the basted turkeys coming!

A special salute to drunk and/or bathing turkeys, dressed tables, and Thanksgiving memories old and new.

Seriously, does it get any better? If I was on an island and had to pick what to eat for the rest of my days, bread, olive oil and wine would go unchallenged. The island holiday would be all of that plus chocolate. All I need is a slice of artisan bread, a glass of red wine and this divine dipping sauce. It is lovely in its presentation, flavor and versatility. Use as a dip for artisan bread or raw fresh veggies, on sandwiches instead of your usual condiments or as a dressing for mixed greens, mozzarella and pasta salad.

Easily one of my favorite add-ons or quick fixes for any meal, my kids love it and can make it themselves. Admittedly, I don’t measure a lot on this one beyond the ‘few gluggs of oil’ and ‘few splashes of vinegar’; it teaches my kids independence and confidence in the kitchen when they splice this dip into a unified concoction.

Best Ever Oil & Balsamic
1/3 cup olive oil (3 good gluggs)
2 T balsamic vinegar (2 good splashes)
2-3 cloves crushed/minced garlic
Pinch of red pepper flakes
2-3 T flat leaf parsley, cut in chiffonade (or basil)

On a small plate combine ingredients, or pour into a jar or glass in advance, then dump onto plate when ready to serve. I use parsley by placing a stack of leaves between my fingers then cutting them with a scissors into a chiffonade. Cut right over plate or jar and drop in. No need to mix or shake this combination, just let it artistically weave its way around the plate (you might shake it in the jar if using as a dressing for greens or pasta salad).

For pasta salad cook shaped pasta according to package directions (make whatever amount you need for serving; assembled pasta salad will keep in fridge for a few days). Add your favorite veggies (blanched/steamed and cooled broccoli, asparagus or lightly sautéed zucchini) and toss with dressing. Sometimes this dressing is all it takes to spruce up a pile of small pearl tomatoes and mini mozzarella balls, topped with a basil chiffonade.