Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that Y&H wanted to cook a holiday dinner from locally sourced ingredients. You know, just so Y&H could be totally in harmony with the whole local/seasonal/sustainable zeitgeist.

Now don’t assume I’m trolling for tips in order to write a City Paper story, because, God knows, we have a hard enough time staying ahead of the competition.

Y&H just wants to put together a nice spread for his friends and family, all from locally sourced ingredients (within reason!), from appetizers to desserts. Where would you send Y&H? Either respond in the comments section or write me via e-mail.

Photo by Laurgasms via Flickr Creative Commons, Attribution License

Duck l’orange

Kimberlée Anne – Marie Elisabeth | MySpace Video

Given the wealth of proteins that may have been on the original Thanksgiving table, I’m not sure how we Americans ended up so obsessed with the turkey. I’m sure it had to do with some confluence of agri-business, Madison Avenue, and JFK’s undying love for bronzed birds. (Insert ridiculous smirk here.)

Seriously, though, why limit your options to a bland butterball of a bird? Are the turkey traditions really more important than building a great meal that we all can truly be thankful for?

If Mad Men has done one thing for us culturally — aside from make women think that the tall, dark, and mysterious man is desireable again — it has allowed us to revisit some of the fashions and foods of that era, like duck a l’orange. This classic dish of (likely) French origin has a rich history, but it suffered numerous indiginities in the American age of convenience. Consider this brief passage from The Food Timeline:

DUCK A L’ORANGE IN USA

A survey of American cookbooks/magazines from WWII forward confirms Duck a l’Orange was a popular dinner party menu option from the 1950s-1970s. Some recipes were true to the original; others were simplified. McCall’s Cook Book circa 1963 instructs cooks to cover spread the duckling with orange marmelade (p. 484).

I think it’s time to reconsider this dish — and, in fact, reconsider your Thanksgiving meal to include this carefully engineered entree of savory, sweet, and sour flavors.

May your turkey be more tender than the Griswold family’s.