SpiceLines

For me, the day begins when I set the table with my grandmother's bone china. These fragile dishes not only remind me of Patricia, but also of the deep pleasure she took in Thanksgiving. Though a strict vegetarian, she was the acclaimed roaster of the turkey (sometimes wild and filled with buckshot). Every year she stuffed it with traditional Southern oyster dressing.

Even if I mix up her English plates with Italian silver and Swedish linen...

...or brine the turkey and add chiles to the stuffing, I feel happy to be one of a long chain of family cooks stretching back many years.

In our house, and probably in yours, there are a few dishes that you can't escape making on Thanksgiving Day: clouds of buttery mashed potatoes and brussel sprouts sizzled with garlic, smoked bacon and serrano chiles. There are two kinds of cranberry sauce: One plain, the other a fiery chutney from Laxmi Hiremath, with fresh ginger, cayenne pepper and cardamom that slipped in under the radar a few years ago.

But in the best American tradition, we experiment. This year there were two new recipes from David Tanis. First, a beautiful salad of sweet blood oranges, Fuyu persimmons and watercress, made by Laura. And second, braised carrots with cumin, smoked paprika and Turkish marash biber, a moist and tangy dark red pepper that, thanks to Serendipity who arrived laden with delectables, was the best I've ever tasted.

The turkey took quite a while to roast (Note to self: Remember to put bird back in oven after basting!) and we sat down as the late afternoon sun slanted across the dining room. Everyone was hungry and a little flushed with champagne, and if our plates were full...

...our hearts were near to burstingwith the joy of sharing our Thanksgiving feast with beloved family and friends who came (at one time or another) from Boston, Oslo and Buenos Aires to join our throng.

And if there was good humor, there were also quiet moments of contemplation...

And of silent gratitude for unexpected gifts--especially the gift of one more year with a pup who was lost and then found on this very day. After her own turkey dinner, Domino slept peacefully under the table. I'd like to think her dreams were happy ones.

After her recovery from last year's "walkabout," our vet remarked, "This dog has no expiration date."

Come to think of it, there's no expiration on love and laughter, on the bonds of family and the warmth of friendship. These things continue, in life and when that's gone, in memory. And for this I am deeply grateful.

Did I forget dessert? So thankful for New Orleans pecan cake with toffee sauce and chickory coffee ice cream too....