Cranberry Brie Pecan Pinwheels

November 2025. Thanksgiving, the twenty-eighth time I've hosted it here. Not that I've counted — I haven't, but Gary has, in the understated way he tracks the things that matter. He mentioned it during the prep week: "This is the twenty-eighth Thanksgiving in this kitchen, isn't it?" I said I thought so. He said, "That's a number." I said it was. He said, "How many of them have been hard?" I thought about it. He said, "Not easy ones. The ones where it was hard and you cooked through it anyway." I said: two or three, maybe. The first one after Grace. The one during COVID. He said, "That's a good ratio."

Ethan cooked the turkey again, which is now tradition. Mason sent a video message from CIA where he demonstrated the technique he'd learned for dry-aging a bird at home and said he'd do it next year. Olivia made the fall salad she's refined over three years of Thanksgiving contributions. Noah, thirteen and officially capable, made the cranberry sauce and the dinner rolls both — his first year doing two dishes. He moved through it with calm efficiency that I recognize from his brothers and that comes, I think, from watching this kitchen work for his entire life.

Mrs. Albright turned ninety-two and came with her daughter and ate one full plate and said, "Still the best table in American Fork." She means us. She means the family. Twenty-eight Thanksgivings and she's been to twelve of them. That's not a guest. That's family.

Noah made the cranberry sauce this year — both that and the dinner rolls, his first time pulling double duty — and watching him work with that quiet, calm confidence made me want to put cranberry on everything. These Cranberry Brie Pecan Pinwheels have been my go-to appetizer for the last few Thanksgivings precisely because they feel like the table before the table: something warm and celebratory to pass around while Ethan finishes the turkey and the kitchen smells like everything good. When Mrs. Albright calls this “the best table in American Fork,” I want the pinwheels to be part of what she means.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 24 pinwheels

Ingredients

1 sheet puff pastry, thawed (from a 17.3 oz package)
1/2 cup whole-berry cranberry sauce
6 oz Brie cheese, rind removed, softened and cut into small pieces
1/3 cup pecans, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely minced (optional)
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
Flaky sea salt, for finishing

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
Roll the pastry. On a lightly floured surface, unfold the thawed puff pastry sheet and gently roll it out to a roughly 10x12-inch rectangle.
Add the fillings. Spread the cranberry sauce evenly over the pastry, leaving a 1/2-inch border along one long edge. Scatter the Brie pieces evenly over the cranberry sauce, then sprinkle with the chopped pecans and rosemary if using.
Roll and chill. Starting from the long edge opposite the bare border, roll the pastry into a tight log. Brush the bare edge with egg wash and press to seal. Wrap the log in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 15 minutes to firm up — this makes slicing much cleaner.
Slice. Using a sharp knife, cut the log into 1/2-inch rounds. You should get approximately 24 pinwheels. Place them cut-side down on the prepared baking sheets, spacing about 1 inch apart.
Egg wash and bake. Brush the tops of the pinwheels lightly with egg wash and sprinkle with a pinch of flaky sea salt. Bake for 18–22 minutes, until puffed and deep golden brown.
Cool slightly and serve. Let the pinwheels rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before serving. They are best warm, when the Brie is still soft and melty.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cranberry Brie Pecan Pinwheels — The Appetizer That Launches Twenty-Eight Years of Thanksgiving