Grand Marnier Cranberry Sauce

November. Thanksgiving approaches like a freight train — unstoppable, enormous, requiring three days of preparation and producing four days of leftovers. I have begun the planning. The turkey has been ordered from Mr. Vitelli. The guest list stands at thirty-four — a Feldman Thanksgiving is not a small affair, because I do not believe in small affairs. Small affairs are for people who have a limited supply of brisket. My supply is unlimited. My supply is Ashkenazi infinity: there is always more.

I made cranberry sauce from scratch this week — a practice run, because even cranberry sauce deserves a dress rehearsal. The sauce is simple: cranberries, sugar, orange zest, a splash of Grand Marnier that Sylvia would have considered extravagant and I consider essential. The sauce simmered and popped and turned the color of garnets, and I tasted it and it was right — tart and sweet, the balance of a thing that knows what it is. I wrote about cranberry sauce on the blog: about how the simplest preparations require the most confidence, because there is nothing to hide behind, no complexity to distract from the fact that you are asking three ingredients to be extraordinary, and the only way they can be extraordinary is if you trust them.

At school, the pre-Thanksgiving energy is building. The students are already mentally checked out, their bodies in my classroom but their minds at their families' tables. I understand this. I was the same at their age — the pull of the holiday, the gravitational force of family and food, the knowledge that somewhere a woman is standing in a kitchen preparing to feed you, and the preparing is love, and the love is the reason you exist. I let them be distracted. On Monday I assign work. On the day before break, I read them a poem and send them home.

Rebecca called to say she and Thomas will come for Thanksgiving. Thomas has survived the Rosh Hashanah audition and the Passover audition and is now facing the Thanksgiving audition, which is the final exam of Feldman family acceptance. If he can survive thirty-four people and my brisket and Marvin's jokes and Rebecca's extended family's questions about his intentions, he is in. I told Rebecca this. She said, "No one has asked about his intentions." I said, "I have been asking about his intentions since the first brisket he ate at my table." She said, "What did the brisket tell you?" I said, "The brisket said he ate four pieces, which means he's serious." The brisket is my oracle. The brisket has never been wrong.

This is the sauce I made this week — the practice run, the dress rehearsal — and it was so right the first time that the only thing left to do is write it down. Three ingredients asked to be extraordinary, and they were. If you are feeding thirty-four people or four, the ratio holds. The Grand Marnier is not optional. Sylvia would disagree. Sylvia is not here.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 10–12

Ingredients

12 oz (340g) fresh or frozen cranberries
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup fresh orange juice (from about 2 navel oranges)
Zest of 1 large orange
3 tablespoons Grand Marnier (or other orange liqueur)
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 cinnamon stick (optional, but recommended)

Instructions

Combine the base. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the cranberries, sugar, orange juice, orange zest, salt, and cinnamon stick if using. Stir once to combine.
Simmer and pop. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 10–12 minutes, until the cranberries have burst and the sauce has thickened to a loose jam consistency. It will continue to set as it cools — do not overcook it.
Add the Grand Marnier. Remove from heat and stir in the Grand Marnier. It will sizzle briefly. This is correct. Taste and adjust sugar if needed — the sauce should be tart and sweet in equal measure, neither one winning.
Cool and store. Remove the cinnamon stick. Transfer to a bowl or jar and let cool to room temperature. The sauce will thicken as it sits. Cover and refrigerate for up to 10 days — it improves overnight, which makes it ideal for making ahead.
Serve. Serve chilled or at room temperature alongside turkey, brisket, or anything that benefits from something bright. Which is most things.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grand Marnier Cranberry Sauce — The Dress Rehearsal That Became the Main Event