Why, hello! Leite's Culinaria is the James Beard Award-winning site that helps home cooks and bakers put dinner on the table and laughs in the kitchen. Hungry for more? Join more than 30,000 food lovers and subscribe.
How to Pull Off an Epic Thanksgiving Without Losing Your $h!t!
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Hello there Reader, Thanksgiving doesn't have to leave you cursing like a sailor. (Although, if you ever heard Mama Leite muttering in Portuguese while wrestling a 22-pound turkey into submission, you might think otherwise.) As someone who's hosted more holiday dinners than my youthful countenance would suggest―some of which ended with me hiding in the basement, clutching a bottle of wine, and questioning my life choices―I've learned a thing or two about keeping my sanity intact. The One will back me up on this, especially after That One Year We Shall Never Speak Of Again when I nearly burned down the house. But I digress. What I've learned is mastering Thanksgiving is all about strategy. And, unlike how I usually cook―which The One likens to a tornado in an apron―this requires that dreaded word: planning. Allow me to share with you my hard-won five-day plan that'll keep you from ending up in the fetal position behind the washing machine. (Not that I know anything about that.) My Free Foolproof Five-Day Countdown
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Leite's Culinaria
Why, hello! Leite's Culinaria is the James Beard Award-winning site that helps home cooks and bakers put dinner on the table and laughs in the kitchen. Hungry for more? Join more than 30,000 food lovers and subscribe.
Hi Reader, Confession: I grew up in the real Golden Age of TV. Swansea wasn’t exactly Hollywood, so my TV diet consisted of endless loops of The Brady Bunch, All in the Family, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show. (Yes, I can still sing the theme songs on demand—don’t tempt me.) The thing about rewatching these classics is that even though you know the joke—Marcia getting hit with a football, Sammy Davis's appearance, and Chuckles the clown's funeral—it still lands. Every. Single. Time. That’s how...
Hi Reader, Before November turned to Thanksgiving, the month was always about dinners that stuck to your ribs and fogged the kitchen windows until you could finger-paint on them. My mother had an uncanny way of knowing just when the chill in the air crossed from “brisk” to “bone-deep.” That’s when she’d pull out the stockpot. Suddenly, a chicken became three meals, beans lost their anonymity in a garlicky stew, and cabbage was transformed into something that could make you forget it was,...
Hi Reader, In my family, turkey wasn't a thing for Thanksgiving. My dad, for whatever reason, didn't like it. Instead, we had capons, which I happily ate until he told me they were "emasculated chickens." After that, I was Team Side Dishes. My grandmother’s dressing, my mother’s mashed potatoes, my godmother's French stuffing, the obligatory green beans that no one touched but everyone felt guilty omitting. You wanna do WHAT to me? Of course, back then, it was chaos. My mother swore she had...