November 21, 2018 – I’m a food snob about cranberry relish.

         I was born in Massachusetts.  As a kid, my parents took me and my siblings to the Ocean Spray place one time. Back then, I think it was merely a gift shop on a busy road on Cape Cod.  But, it was cool that cranberries were grown in Massachusetts and I sure am a proud Massachusetts-ite all these years telling people where they are grown and by whom.

         But, when it comes to Thanksgiving Day – I require, I must have, or the world will come to an end – if I don’t have fresh Ocean Spray cranberries.  I am a 100 percent Ocean Spray cranberry snob.

         This trait was imprinted on my culinary soul as a youngster by just one little stop to the Ocean Spray place in Cape Cod – who would have thought it.

         Add this adult life snobbery of the cranberry jelly out of a can that my Mom used to buy and chill for Thanksgiving Day my entire childhood into my teens seems so bizarre to tell it.  My job, even as a small tike – when I could carry dishes and silverware to the table, was to set the table for the Thanksgiving Day guests.

         As I aged, I took on the full table setting including the tablecloth, the silverware, the dishes, the pickles and olives in their own special “split” dish.  The antique saltcellars and the crisp celery chilled in an upright container.

         Then, when my Grandma and Grandpa Nixon arrived, it was time for me run out and greet them.  I got their hugs and kisses and then as I opened the door for them into the kitchen, Grandma would present the homemade mincemeat pie to Dad.  It was his favorite, and Grandpa would put his grey felt, black banned fedora on my head.  I felt so classy in his hat every year. 

         I’d take their coats to my parents room and lay them out on the bed, just so, and after admiring myself in the bureau mirror of how excellent the fedora looked on me, I’d place it on the bed pillows.

         Returning to the living room set up for dinning, Mom would have me open the chilled can of cranberry jelly [both ends] so that it would slide out on to a crystal plate. I would slice it once from top to bottom, and then into 3/4^th inch slices creating half-moon shapes then add the spoon and set it on the table.  Within moments, we would be ready to sit down as Father carved the turkey at the table – just like a Norman Rockwell painting.

         “You’ve come a long way baby . . .” as the Virginia Slims commercial used to say – yes I have from that last Thanksgiving Dinner at my parents’ house as a teenager to my first solo performance at cooking my first turkey when I set up housekeeping.

         That first Thanksgiving, I read the back of the fresh Ocean Spray cranberry package and followed the instructions for making cranberry sauce. Came out perfect and I never looked back at the canned cranberry jelly.

         Over the years, I always make homemade cranberry sauce and have for over 40+ years. Today was no exception.  In the past I’ve made if for ham, roast beef, turkey of course, and one Thanksgiving I actually served scallops.  I have it as a side dish.  It is pretty, it is tart-sweet, it is a taste of “home”, that was never like “the home” I had as a kid – but it my tradition.

         In the last few days, one of the news channels was bantering about a recipe for Cointreau Cranberry Relish.  I still had a splash left of Cointreau in the liquor cabinet and that recipe sounded like it would have a “bright” taste.  I prowled around the internet and ended up on a very simple recipe at:

https//www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ted-allen/cointrea-cranberry-relish-recipe-219365.recipePrint

I changed the recipe up a little bit [**] to suit me:

Into a saucepan I combined one 12-ounce bag of Ocean Spray cranberries [washed of course]

1 peeled and diced apple

Two knobs of fresh ginger peeled and diced fine **

1 cup sugar

Zest from one large lemon**I cooked it in

The juice from the large lemon** instead of the water

¼ teaspoon of allspice** instead of cinnamon

¼ teaspoon of ground cloves

- after it cools – ½ cup of Cointreau

I brought it to a simmer and then a slow boil – stirring so that it did not scorch for about 10 minutes.  I scraped the sides of the pan and allowed it to cool a bit before I added the ½ cup of Cointreau.

Still warm, I spooned it into a glass crock that has a clamp lid and the 3 or 4 tablespoons that wouldn’t fit – into a navy blue ramekin for the culinary cook, Moi.

         Later when it was cool, I popped the jar into the refrigerator for tomorrow and my little ramekin – cool enough to taste – I plied a small spoonful on my husband and he said – “hmmmm” [passing muster].  And, me, I savored the leftover ½ a spoonful at a time melting on to my tongue.  Sheer Nirvana.  The Cointreau simply “does it” – Perfection.

         I wish everyone a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!