There Should Only Be One Turkey At Thanksgiving

Don’t Let It Be Your Wine

“Wine is art. It’s culture. It’s the essence of civilization and the art of living.” Robert Mondavi

“Wine. It’s how classy people get shitfaced.” Cocktail Napkin

Thanksgiving is that special time of year when wine and food writers give thanks for the overabundance of tired old clichés they get to recycle. I firmly believe that writers shouldn’t rehash old boring clichés. My job as a writer is to create new boring clichés. This week every newspaper, magazine, and wine blogger will roll out their picks for the perfect wine to pair with turkey which means you’re going to hear a lot about Pinot Noir; and why not? Pinot Noir goes with turkey like gravy goes with heart disease.

On Thanksgiving the family gathers at my house to share good food, great wine, and several strains of influenza. It’s that special holiday where a unique assortment of drunkards, criminals and racists gorge themselves on my hard-earned bounty. No wait, that’s not my family, that’s congress. I want to stress in no uncertain terms that my family are not drunkards, criminals and racists; they’re just drunkards.

As the only sommelier in a family full of disgruntled postal workers I’m charged with picking the wine to complement the harvest feast. (This is a long-standing sommelier tradition like price gouging and belittling customers.) My family loves wine and I choose the beverages at all of our religious celebrations including Easter, Baptisms, and Super Bowl Sunday. My brother-in-law has come to believe drinking wine is a religious experience because, much like sitting in church, it makes him drowsy.

During dinner I point out the different characteristics inherent in each wine which sometimes confuses those unfamiliar with wine snob terminology. Therefore I always make it clear from the outset; nobody slipped cat pee into the Sauvignon Blanc or horse manure into the Clos de Vougeot. They’re supposed to smell that way.

Really.

To choose the perfect pairings I sit on the front porch and sample wine before the family arrives. I’ll usually open something special like a mature Premier Cru Bordeaux from a great vintage. Being the generous host that I am, I save the fresh Beaujolais Nouveau for the guests because I’d hate to serve the family stale wine and you really don’t want to piss off disgruntled postal workers. Last year the first wine I sampled was so good that I drank the whole bottle before the guests arrived. I wasn’t alone mind you; all the neighbors were driving by.

My selection process has the added benefit of keeping me out of my wife’s way so she can clean, cook, and shovel the snow. You may think I have the easier job but then you haven’t been at my house when the wine locusts arrive. The eighth plague was nothing compared to what happens when my people are thirsty.

When the guests have settled and I’ve poured everyone a drink we gather before the 42″ high-def altar to watch football, football, and more football. It’s an afternoon filled with aggressive, smash-mouth offence and bold defensive maneuvers. Then we turn on the TV and watch the game. I prefer watching football without a lot of distractions so I make the kids leave the room when the game begins. This starts with some simple cajoling but usually ends with a tantrum and a lot of tears. Sometimes the kids get upset too.

Since I’m watching the games with guests my wife insists I put my pants on. She’s peculiar that way. I prefer watching football alone because I don’t like to answer a lot of complex questions like, “What’s a play action pass?” or “Who farted?”

This year I invited some distant relatives. Not “second cousin twice removed” distant. By “distant” I mean they don’t like me very much. I promised my wife I wouldn’t be baited into any confrontations and when the most combative relative of all arrives I will greet her with a cheery “Happy Thanksgiving Mom”.

Thanksgiving isn’t really a religious holiday but soon after the family arrives I do find myself praying for it to be over. We’re a multi-denominational group of Catholics, Unitarians, Presbyterians and Vegetarians. To complicate things my Uncle Ralph converted to Islam and he never goes anywhere without his new holy man, Sheik Yur Bouti. Ralph says the sheik really puts the fun in fundamentalist.

My sister married a Unitarian when she fell in love with her reform-school sweetheart. I don’t think her husband is your typical Unitarian because he believes in Jesus. I know because he once shouted Jesus’ name when I spilled his Margarita.

When dinner is served the Catholics argue with the Vegetarians about what kind of prayer to say over the turkey. The Catholics want to pray for the bounty we are about to receive but the Vegetarians prefer praying for the resurrection of the bird. (The Unitarians usually side with the Vegetarians on this one but they go separate ways when the Unitarians start to question the very existence of gluten.) Last year the Vegetarians won the argument and I had to take Rolaids when their prayers were answered and the giblets is risen.

I also invited my cousin Eddie and his wife Yolanda. Eddie says Yolanda used to drive him to drink but she stopped when he got his driver’s license back. Eddie is a Presbyterian which means that while the Unitarians are seeking proof of the Holy Spirit, he’s in the kitchen seeking 80 proof spirits. Sometimes we let Eddie say the prayer because we need a good laugh before dinner. He invariably ends all prayers by raising a glass and saying “cheers”. I don’t mean to offend anyone. I can poke fun at Presbyterian drunkards because I was raised one-half drunkard.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I have a lovely family. In fact I love my wife’s brother like a brother-in-law. We gather around the table and I take a heart-warming look at my loved ones, my Uncle Ralph, the turkey, and then my wife brings in the bird. No casual attire at this table. No sir, even the greens are collard.

When it comes to sharing a Thanksgiving feast with Uncle Ralph I can tell you the potatoes aren’t the only things that are twice baked. Before Uncle Ralph arrives he enjoys a big helping of bourbon maple cheesecake – minus the maple cheesecake. Every year he pesters me to let him carve the turkey. He just won’t let up and I eventually give him the bird.

Over dinner we discuss the age-old question that has puzzled Thanksgiving tables since the Pilgrims first shared their harvest and their diseased blankets with the Indians. What, dear Lord, is the difference between a sweet potato and a yam? In my home and in homes all across this great nation this discussion invariably erupts in violence.

It’s scenes like these that make Thanksgiving so special. That and the 18 pounds of butter we get to consume. Last year we ate so much butter that for several months the folks in Wisconsin had to go without milk in their coffee.

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Pairing wine and food boils down to finding the right beverage to compliment the dominant taste in the main course. The rustic flavor of turkey pairs well with Pinot Noir because turkey is loaded with the taste of umami. In fact turkey has more umami than any other meat. Now don’t get nervous and cancel your Thanksgiving bird; umami isn’t some flesh-eating bacteria or breast-enhancing hormone, those are added later. Umami is a basic taste just like sweet, sour, salt and bitter – but with a funnier name.

This subtle fifth taste was first identified by a Japanese scientist over a hundred years ago. He discovered that umami is linked to the amino acid glutamate and his investigations led to the development of monosodium glutamate (MSG) as a flavor enhancer. I could feed you lots of information about the development of MSG but you’d just be hungry for more in an hour.

In describing the taste of umami in The Fifth Taste, Cooking with Umami, David and Anna Kasabian wrote, “Among the most apt descriptors are savory, mouth-filling, brothy, meaty, satisfying, and rich” which coincidentally, are the boxes Cousin Eddie checked on his eHarmony Compatibility Questionnaire.

The taste of umami is amplified through slow cooking, ripening, drying, curing, aging, and my own personal favorite; fermentation. Long ago man discovered that grape juice, when exposed to yeast, ferments into alcohol. Now let me hear you say hallelujah brothers and sisters because I think the discovery of fermentation ranks right up there with the wheel, the lever, and the Wonderbra.

Fermentation may be God’s way of comforting you when your brother-in-law visits but it’s also the process that imbues wine with both alcohol and umami. It’s the reason Pinot Noir pairs beautifully with the turkey sitting on the table while simultaneously helping you cope with the turkeys sitting at the table. Suffice it to say that without fermentation Pinot Noir wouldn’t have a magical affinity with turkey and beer wouldn’t have an endorsement deal with NASCAR.

While mature, old-world Pinot Noir from Burgundy can be rich in umami you may find it cost prohibitive. But if you do decide to spring for a well-aged bottle I suggest you do as I do.

• Carefully decant it to eliminate the sediment
• Let it gently breathe to allow it to blossom into its fullest potential
• Quickly drink it before the family arrives

There are alternatives to mature Burgundy that will save you the trouble of having to borrow money from a mob loan shark or worse, a Wall Street banker. Of course you may find it difficult to convince your guests to drink something other than Pinot Noir on Thanksgiving. Pinot Noir is Yolanda’s drink of choice because she says it pairs so beautifully with aggravation and stress.  In fact I know lots of women who will only drink Pinot Noir. I guess you could say Pinot Noir has broad appeal.

To break out of the Pinot Noir rut on Thanksgiving I often choose aromatic whites such as Riesling, Gewurztraminer, or a new world Viognier. Rather than a pairing based on similar, neutral flavor characteristics, these combinations thrive on the lively contrast of texture and taste. Combine the cool embrace of these exotic, flowery wines with the earthy flavors of a Thanksgiving feast and your taste buds will soon be partying like its 1969. If you’re too young to know what that means, try a spicy Gewurztraminer with the rustic, umami-rich taste of turkey and then drop some antacid.

Before you I-Only-Drink-Dry-Wine snobs reach for the mouse, keep in mind these varietals are made with varying degrees of sweetness, including many made in a fully dry style. Speaking of dry, my Aunt Tootie insists on bringing the turkey on Thanksgiving. What that woman does to a turkey is criminal. She must cook it in a conviction oven.

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Many different beer styles possess the savory taste of umami that compliments a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. You can find umami in maltier brews such as Doppelbock, Porter or Stout. The heightened impact and satisfying gratification attained when umami-rich foods are matched with umami characteristics in your beverage is what I call the cumulative effect. The subtle synergy that occurs when similar tastes are combined isn’t as flashy as contrasting combinations but that doesn’t mean they’re any less rewarding. Sometimes we just crave comfort food – a group of similar tastes that come together in a safe, reassuring place … like Switzerland.

You Type A personalities on the other hand, might prefer the sizzling interplay of contrasting flavors and textures. Like acidity in wine, beer can offer the requisite “cut” or “bite” to keep the lively interaction between food and beverage interesting. Some India Pale Ales (IPAs) possess searing hop levels that deliver more bite than a late night presidential tweet. This excessive hoppiness is good for general food pairing but its severe bitterness might obliterate the delicate taste of umami. Besides, if I’m in the mood for that much bitterness on Thanksgiving I’ll just talk to my mother-in-law.

Instead, I search for something lighter and livelier than a Porter but not as hoppy as an IPA. I want my beer selection to possess enough zip to counteract the 18 pounds of butter I plan on consuming but also deliver the subtle umami taste that offers comfort as I watch my mother pour Sweet ‘N Low into her Gevrey-Chambertin. When it comes to Thanksgiving I find you can’t go wrong with a tasty Belgium Blonde, and their beer is a good choice too.

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And of course no Thanksgiving feast is complete without a well-planned hangover. I break out the port after dinner so that Uncle Ralph’s not the only thing at the table fortified with brandy. Ralph loves dessert wine so I always keep port in the house when he’s out on bail.

My very first taste of port was the Graham’s 1963 Vintage Port and to this day Graham’s holds a soft spot in my heart and a dark spot on my liver. Unfortunately many Vintage Ports sell in the neighborhood of $100 a bottle which is not a neighborhood I want to visit with Cousin Eddie. Reserve Ports such as Fonseca Bin 27, Warre’s Warrior, or Graham’s Six Grapes offer certain conveniences that Vintage Ports lack. Once opened Reserve Ports will keep for a couple of months, they have no sediment so they don’t require decanting, and like my cousin Eddie, they’re cheap. Additionally Reserve Port doesn’t require years of cellaring because when released it’s ready to be drunk – which is a good thing because so is Uncle Ralph.

For the best results you want to serve dessert wines with sweet foods (hence the name “dessert wine”). When sweet food is combined with sweet wine, a phenomenon I call the cancellation effect renders both the food and beverage drier. You don’t want to serve dry wine with dessert because the wine will become austere, bitter and lacking in character which always seems redundant in the company of my family.

Serving port is also how I warn my family that it’s about time for them to leave and how I warn my readers that there won’t be any mail delivered in many New Jersey neighborhoods the day after Thanksgiving.

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Once the family leaves it’s time to start planning for the next holiday because they’re sure to find me on Christmas Day no matter how many times I move. They’ll arrive bearing tidings of comfort and joy when all I really want is for them to bear their own wine. We’ll share another holiday feast, great wines and gifts that should return a tidy sum at next summer’s garage sale. Mom always gives me a second hand gift on Christmas but I don’t mind. When you’re the middle child you get used to hand-me-down gifts. I remember some years were so lean that all Mom gave me was second hand smoke.

Even though I’m blessed with terrific relatives, surviving the holidays can be challenging. To get through Christmas I have to muster up every ounce of courage and several ounces of bourbon. In the end it doesn’t matter if your holiday beverage of choice is wine, beer, port or whisky. They all stimulate the accumbens nucleus, which is the part of your brain responsible for pleasure, laughter, aggression and fear, or what I like to call a typical Thanksgiving with the in-laws. Alcohol also triggers the reward system in your brain so you feel good about your abnormally rowdy behavior, even if you wouldn’t typically play air guitar behind your mother-in-law as she recites the Lord’s Prayer. Alcohol is the component that makes people boisterous, sometimes even causing them to swear. In fact, once the port is empty and the family starts eyeballing my rare malt whisky collection I find myself swearing to never host Thanksgiving again.