Thanksgiving week. My favorite holiday, which surprises no one because it is, at its core, a holiday about cooking too much food and eating it with people you love, which is my entire personality distilled into a single day.
Mom is hosting at the Cape Cod, like always. The guest list: me, Mom, Dad, Uncle Stan, Aunt Debbie, Cousin Mikey and his wife Sarah, and Mrs. Katz, who comes every year because the Kowalskis don't let people eat Thanksgiving alone.
Mom is doing the turkey. I offered to take it over but she said, "Jake, I have been making the turkey since before you were born and I will die making the turkey," which is the kind of statement that does not invite negotiation. Fine. The turkey is Mom's.
I'm doing everything else. The plan:
- Babcia's pierogi (potato and cheese, sauerkraut, and the pumpkin ones I invented — my Thanksgiving contribution to the tradition)
- Babcia's bigos (three-day version, started Monday)
- Roasted brussels sprouts with bacon and balsamic (not Polish, but good)
- Cranberry sauce from scratch (orange zest, cinnamon, a splash of bourbon)
- Gravy (from the turkey drippings, which Mom will reluctantly surrender)
- Makowiec (poppy seed roll — my Christmas preview, perfected)
- Szarlotka (because Aunt Debbie asked)
I've been cooking since Monday. The bigos is simmering. The pierogi dough is resting. The makowiec is rolled and baked and cooling on the counter. My apartment smells like a Polish grandmother's house and I am not complaining.
The pumpkin pierogi are the wild card. Nobody's had them yet. I roasted the pumpkin on Tuesday — cubed, tossed with brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter, roasted until caramelized. Mashed it smooth, mixed it with a little cream cheese for binding, and filled the pierogi. They're sweet but not dessert-sweet — they belong on a plate next to turkey and stuffing. I think. I hope. We'll find out Thursday.
I'm thankful this year for things I didn't know I'd have: a career I love, recipes that connect me to someone I lost, hands that know how to make dough, and a family that shows up every Sunday. I'm thankful for Dad's silence and Mom's tears and Mrs. Wojcik's standards and Danny's memory. I'm thankful for Babcia's recipe cards, tied with a rubber band and spotted with grease, sitting in a box on my kitchen counter like the most valuable thing I own. Because they are.
The cranberry sauce I make every year — orange zest, cinnamon, a splash of bourbon — is one of those small, personal things on the Thanksgiving table that nobody technically needs but everyone reaches for. The same flavors that go into that sauce are exactly what make this Rustic Cranberry Orange Bread feel right at home next to the pierogi and the bigos: tart cranberries, bright citrus, a loaf that smells like the holiday itself coming out of the oven. It’s not Polish, and Babcia never made it, but it earns its spot on the table the same way Mrs. Katz earns her seat — it just belongs there.
Rustic Cranberry Orange Bread
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min | Servings: 12 slices
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 3/4 cup fresh orange juice (about 2 medium oranges)
- 1 tablespoon fresh orange zest
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
- 1 large egg, lightly beaten
- 1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen cranberries, roughly chopped
- 1/2 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan and lightly dust with flour, tapping out the excess.
- Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until evenly combined.
- Combine the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the orange juice, orange zest, melted butter, and beaten egg until smooth.
- Bring it together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a wooden spoon or spatula until just combined — a few small lumps are fine. Do not overmix or the bread will turn tough.
- Fold in the cranberries. Gently fold in the chopped cranberries and walnuts, if using, until just distributed through the batter.
- Fill the pan. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and spread evenly with a spatula. The batter will be thick.
- Bake. Bake on the center rack for 50 to 60 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean and the top is deep golden brown. If the top begins to darken too quickly after 35 minutes, tent loosely with foil.
- Cool before slicing. Let the bread cool in the pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes, then turn out and cool completely before slicing — at least 1 hour. Slicing too early will cause the loaf to crumble.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 192 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 37g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 178mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 139 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.