There was a time in history when an all white meal consisting mostly of flour and milk was the most depressing idea imaginable. In Dickenâ€™s â€œA Christmas Carolâ€, Ebenezer Scrooge famously sat down to a bowl of gruel awaiting him, while ghosts sat in its wake. This was supposed to signify how miserable and miserly he was.
I used to be a bit of a scrooge myself when it came to Thanksgiving dinner. I hate stuffing,Â I hate green bean casserole… and turkey tastes the same as it does on any other day. The only part of the meal that I looked forward to was the mashed potatoes, and the gravy which Iâ€™d use to smother the rest of that mess in.
Then I met my husband. One of the first things that we did as a couple was come up with our own Thanksgiving ritual. Early Thanksgiving morning we go to the fancy supermarket on the other side of town and buy whatever we want. That first year it was Yellow Yukon potatoes for mashing, the white vegetarian gravy that comes in an envelope, Pillsbury Grands, good wine and something special for the cats.
Weâ€™ve pretty much stuck with that, though every year we also select a new chili-pepper-heavy spice blend,Â incorporated in with spice blends from Thanksgivings past,Â which we mix with an unusual amount of butter and the broth from the potatoes to make the spiciest, creamiest mashed potatoes. We then stir the extra broth from the potatoes and a couple of crumbled vegetarian sausage patties into the gravy powder and serve up the whole thing as one wonderful, white, gloppy mess.
Hereâ€™s the recipe the best that I can relay it. We have so many spices that I can only say to use your own favorites and season to taste.
Biscuits cooling on a platter.
A lovely mound of mashed potatoes smothered in sausage gravy.