Cranberry Relish

Thanksgiving. I got up Thursday at 5:45 to put the cornbread in, which I know is overkill but I like mine the most when it is still slightly warm, and I drove to Southie with the cast iron in a towel on Nora's car seat because she was still asleep and therefore not in the car seat. It was negative-whatever with the wind off the harbor and the sky was that specific pink New England gets right before dawn in November, and I was listening to WBUR and drinking a coffee and by the time I parked on East Broadway I was in the specific good mood that the drive to my parents' on a holiday morning has always produced in me. Grown woman, professional nurse, mother of two, and the drive to my mother's on a holiday still does the same thing to my chest that it did when I was sixteen.

Maureen was already in the kitchen. Of course she was. She had been up since four. The turkey was in, the table was set, she had the radio on to the AM station she has had on for forty years. She looked at me and said "the cornbread is warm?" and I said "the cornbread is warm" and she said "good girl" and that was the entire verbal exchange of the arrival. Then she handed me a potato peeler and I got to work.

By 1 PM the house was full. Sean Sr. in his chair, Patrick and Colleen (Colleen in the armchair with a footstool which is the only arrangement Maureen considered acceptable), Meghan and Brian and little Aidan (who is two and fascinated by Liam), Danny down from New London for forty-eight hours in his Coast Guard sweatshirt, the girlfriend's parents, Sean's cousins from Dorchester. Father Donnelly did come by. He blessed the turkey and then ate with us, as we knew he would. The house sat at twenty-three people including Nora who does not count as a full seat but does count as a full portion.

Sal from Engine 7 stopped by at 4 -- he was on shift and had the rig parked outside -- and Liam met him at the door and demonstrated that he still had the plastic helmet from Halloween and was willing to wear it on special occasions such as this one. Sal saluted him. Liam saluted back. Sal said "he's got it, Kate" and I said "I know, Sal" and what we meant was the thing we meant, the Engine 7 thing, the Donovan thing, the next-generation thing. My father watched from his chair and did not say anything, which is his language for the highest pride he is capable of.

Liam poured gravy on everything at the table. The turkey, the potatoes, the cornbread, the cranberry sauce, the green beans, the roll. He poured it with ceremony. Sean said "buddy, you don't have to--" and I said "let him" because Thanksgiving is one of two meals a year where the gravy permission should be unrestricted. He ate all of it. Nora ate cornbread and buttered roll and half a sweet potato and rejected everything else on grounds I could not determine. She is a month shy of two. She is entitled to her own council.

I sat in the kitchen with Maureen at 9 PM after the dishes and we had tea and she told me Colleen should not be doing the Thanksgiving shift on Sunday and I should call her. I did not say "Ma, she's thirty-three years old and a nurse." I just said "I'll call her." We watched the radiator. I drove home at 10. The kids were asleep in the car by the bridge.

Liam poured gravy on the cranberry sauce without hesitation, and honestly I respect the commitment, but the cranberry relish is the one thing on the Maureen Donovan Thanksgiving table that doesn’t need help from anything — it just cuts right through all of it, the richness and the gravy and the everything. I started making my own version a few years ago because I wanted something that tasted bright in the middle of all that heaviness, and this is it. It takes about ten minutes and no stove, which matters when your cast iron is already occupied and your kitchen has eight people in it by noon.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 bag (12 oz) fresh or frozen cranberries, rinsed
1 medium orange, quartered and seeded (peel on)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger
Pinch of kosher salt

Instructions

Pulse the orange. Add the orange quarters (peel included) to a food processor and pulse 4–5 times until coarsely chopped. Remove and set aside.
Process the cranberries. Add the cranberries to the food processor and pulse in short bursts until coarsely chopped — you want texture, not puree. Do not over-process.
Combine. Transfer the cranberries and orange to a large bowl. Add the sugar, cinnamon, ginger, and salt. Stir well to combine.
Rest. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to allow the sugar to dissolve and the flavors to come together. Overnight is even better.
Taste and adjust. Before serving, taste and add more sugar if needed depending on the tartness of your cranberries.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cranberry Relish — The One Thing on the Table Liam Didn’t Drown in Gravy