By Thanksgiving. The whole family at Steve and Patty's. Matt and Danielle drove in from Springfield. Kristin flew from New York. Babcia Rose came at noon in her good coat with a pot of bigos — the hunter's stew, sauerkraut and meat, that she makes for special occasions. Steve picked her up because she does not drive anymore and would not say so directly; she just mentioned three times that her car was "making a noise" until Steve offered. This is how things work in the Kowalczyk family: no one asks directly for anything.
Patty made turkey and stuffing and green bean casserole from scratch and a sweet potato dish with the brown sugar and butter that is the only sweet potato preparation worth eating. I made the cranberry sauce — from scratch, because the canned kind is fine but the fresh kind with orange zest takes twelve minutes and tastes like an entirely different species of food. Matt ate three slices of it like it was a side dish, which it is, and also because Matt eats everything in large quantities without analysis.
After dinner, when the dishes were done and Steve was watching football and Matt and Danielle were talking to Patty, Babcia Rose sat down next to me on the couch and said "How is school." I said "I graduate in three weeks." She said "And then you teach." I said yes. She looked at the room — her son, her granddaughters, the table still covered in the remnants of dinner — and she said "Good. The children need someone." I said I know, Babcia. She patted my hand once and said nothing else.
I drove back to DeKalb on Sunday with a container of leftover stuffing and a full jar of cranberry sauce that Patty sent because "you'll want it on the turkey sandwiches." She is right. I ate turkey and cranberry sandwiches for three days. The stuffing I reheated in the skillet with butter. Everything tasted like the table we all sat around, the voices talking over each other, Babcia Rose's hand on mine.
After three days of turkey-and-cranberry sandwiches back in my DeKalb apartment, I realized the jar Patty sent home with me was almost gone — and that I needed to actually write this recipe down somewhere I’d find it next November. This is the one I brought to Thanksgiving: one pot, twelve minutes, and enough orange zest to make it taste like something you chose on purpose rather than something you opened. Make a double batch. You will not regret having extra for the sandwiches.
Fresh Cranberry Sauce with Orange Zest
Prep Time: 3 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 12 oz fresh or frozen cranberries
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 cup fresh orange juice (from about 2 medium oranges)
- 1 tablespoon freshly grated orange zest
- 1/4 cup water
- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon (optional)
- Pinch of kosher salt
Instructions
- Combine. Add the cranberries, sugar, orange juice, water, and salt to a medium saucepan. Stir briefly to combine and set over medium heat.
- Bring to a boil. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sugar dissolves and the mixture comes to a full boil, about 3–4 minutes. You will hear the cranberries beginning to pop.
- Simmer. Reduce heat to medium-low and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until the cranberries have all burst and the sauce has thickened noticeably. It will still look loose — that’s correct.
- Finish. Remove from heat and stir in the orange zest and cinnamon if using. Taste and adjust sugar if your cranberries are especially tart.
- Cool. Let the sauce cool to room temperature in the pan — it will thicken further as it cools. Transfer to a jar or serving bowl. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 95 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 20mg