Thanksgiving five. The pandemic edition. Six people. Six cooks. One table.
The turkey: smoked, brined, glazed. Five years of this bird and it's dialed in. The tamarind-honey glaze has become the standard — I don't even experiment with it anymore. It's right. Some things reach their final form and you stop fiddling.
Tyler's sausage: sixty links, smoked over cherry wood, served as a side dish. People don't serve sausage at Thanksgiving. The Tran family does. Tyler sliced them on the diagonal and arranged them on a board with mustard and pickled vegetables. It looked like a charcuterie plate from a restaurant that exists only in my dreams.
Emma's desserts: the tiramisu (legendary) and the crème brûlée (transcendent). She brûléed the sugar with a kitchen torch at the table, in front of everyone, because she's learned from working at Thuy's that the performance matters as much as the food. The crack of the sugar. The gasp from Lily. The drama.
Lily's curry: served in a beautiful bowl she'd bought at the Vietnamese market. The green against the white rice was stunning. Ma tasted it and said, "For Thai food, this is very good." Which is Ma-speak for: "I acknowledge that other cuisines exist and this one doesn't offend me."
Ma's pho: the new version. Lighter. More delicate. Served as a first course, before the turkey. Six bowls on the table. We ate in silence. The silence of people tasting something familiar that has changed and finding the change not wrong, just different.
Linh's salad: $38. From Whole Foods. It was fine. It's always fine. The salad is a tradition now and nobody wants to disrupt it.
The moment: after dinner, after dessert, after the dishes. We sat in the living room. Ma in her chair. The photo frame scrolling. Tyler half-asleep on the couch. Emma reading. Lily on her phone (managing the Instagram — she posted a Thanksgiving photo that got 50,000 likes). Linh drinking wine.
Ma said, "This was good."
Not the food. The day. The family. The surviving.
This was good. In a year where nothing was good, this was good.
I'm thankful. For the turkey and the team and the table and the woman in the chair who started all of this on a boat in 1975. I'm thankful for COVID-changed pho that tastes like survival. I'm thankful for a son who makes sausage and a daughter who brûlées sugar and another daughter who runs an empire from her phone and a sister who brings a $38 salad and a mother who says, "This was good."
This was good.
Linh’s $38 Whole Foods salad has become one of my favorite things about Thanksgiving — not because it’s extraordinary, but because it’s hers, and she shows up with it every single year, and that reliability is its own kind of love. But after this one — after Ma said “This was good” and meant the whole day, the whole surviving — I found myself wanting to give that salad a homemade life, something we could build with our own hands the way we’ve built everything else. This hearty eight-layer salad is the version I’d put on that table: sturdy, generous, made ahead so there’s nothing left to worry about when the family finally sits down.
Hearty Eight-Layer Salad
Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus overnight chilling) | Servings: 10–12
Ingredients
- 1 large head iceberg lettuce, chopped (about 8 cups)
- 1/2 medium red onion, thinly sliced
- 3 stalks celery, thinly sliced
- 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
- 6 hard-boiled eggs, sliced
- 8 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled
- 1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
- 1 1/2 cups mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 3 green onions, thinly sliced (for garnish)
- Smoked paprika, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Build the base. Spread the chopped iceberg lettuce evenly across the bottom of a large, deep glass bowl or trifle dish (at least 4-quart capacity). The clear sides will show off the layers.
- Layer the vegetables. Add the red onion slices evenly over the lettuce, followed by the sliced celery, then the thawed peas spread in an even layer.
- Add the eggs. Arrange the sliced hard-boiled eggs across the pea layer, overlapping slightly. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, sugar, white wine vinegar, and garlic powder until smooth. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
- Spread the dressing. Spoon the dressing over the egg layer and spread it edge to edge, all the way to the sides of the bowl, sealing in the layers beneath. This is what keeps everything fresh overnight.
- Finish the top layers. Sprinkle the shredded cheddar evenly over the dressing, then top with the crumbled bacon. Add sliced green onions and a dusting of smoked paprika if using.
- Chill overnight. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 8 hours, or overnight. The dressing will settle into the layers and the flavors will deepen. Do not toss before serving — bring it to the table as-is and serve by scooping down through all layers.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 237 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.