Thanksgiving Wines

I’ve been avoiding writing this, because it doesn’t feel easy. While some may struggle with words, finding the right thing to say is usually rather simple for me. I know that I’m lucky in this department. I’ve watched others grapple with it and rack their brains trying to figure out how to say what they mean. As long as I have the privilege of putting my words on a page rather than actually having to speak them, I’m golden. I suppose this is one of the rare situations where I’m a little at a loss for words. 

Maybe it’s because I struggle to rectify the lie of Thanksgiving that we’re taught as young children with the warm, fuzzy memories of past holidays spent around the table with my family. Maybe it’s because I don’t really have any interest in participating in a colonizer holiday, but I hate to pass on any excuse for a big meal. Maybe it’s because I’m still learning to come to terms with the reality that the holidays of my childhood slowly shriveled and shrank as family members got divorced, or passed away, or moved on to their own holiday traditions with the families they made for themselves as they got older. Things changed. Magic faded. I grew up. Now I’m six hundred miles away from home with no intention of returning for the holidays this year. Without the pre-prescribed family holiday traditions to hide behind, I realize maybe for the first time that I don’t really know what any of this means to me or how this holiday fits into my new life. 

I think I’ve always secretly seen Thanksgiving as a sort of dress-rehearsal for Christmas. A chance to put on slightly nicer clothes and have a big meal with the family members you probably haven’t seen in awhile. A chance to brush up on your conversation skills and figure out which cousin deserves an extra-cool Christmas present this year. If it’s not that, then what is it? I sincerely don’t know. But, I do know this: despite all the changes I’ve experienced in the past decade that have led to this Thanksgiving being so vastly different from any that I ever grew up with, there are several constants that I can depend on myself to provide. I’ve already procured a turkey and I feel fairly confident that I’ll do it justice. I have obtained my Nana’s stuffing recipe and, though I’ve never made it before, it seems straightforward enough that I hopefully won’t ruin it entirely. I can make pie like nobody’s business, so at the very least, I’ll have an amazing pumpkin mascarpone pie for dessert this year. And at the end of the day, if all else fails, there is wine to bridge the gap between home and here. 

I am beyond pleased with myself for having the foresight to realize that the holidays might be a little weird for me this year, so I stashed away my two favorite Thanksgiving season wines from my favorite winery in my hometown. Rover Red by Easton Wine Project is named for the local high school’s mascot. I was never really into sports and (despite it being my hometown high school) I didn’t graduate from there; I was one of those weirdos who went to a high school sort of like the one in Fame. Despite having no real affiliation with ‘Rover Nation’ and basically zero understanding of football, Rover Red is still one of my favorite wines and November wouldn’t be the same without it. The firm tannins, smooth finish, fruit plum and black cherry flavors, and peppery notes of this red blend make me feel at home whether I’m sipping in Easton or the midwest. As soon as Thanksgiving season rolls around, this is the bottle I want to open and enjoy first.

While Pinot Noir may be a classic pairing (and safe choice) for Thanksgiving Dinner, it’s not what I want to be drinking. I have been saving another of Easton Wine Project’s bottles for this exact occasion. Traditions is another red blend, and is so named for the tradition of the Easton v. Phillipsburg Turkey Day Game held each year. In the years when Easton High School won the game, I could hear the victory motorcade driving around honking and hooping and hollering from my apartment downtown. I never really cared much about the outcome of the game, but I still enjoyed hearing the celebration. It’s one of those silly little things that I never realized I’d miss once I left. So, although the bottle may be named for a very specific tradition, to me the name has a much broader meaning. It reminds me of all the little Thanksgiving traditions of my past: and there’s nothing I’d rather drink with this special meal. I don’t find this medium-bodied red blend too overwhelming to pair with Thanksgiving dinner. For me; it’s perfect. Its cherry and pepper notes compliment the food perfectly. 

When I still lived in Easton, I would often get the opportunity to enjoy a glass or two of Easton Wine Project’s Cranberry Wine while catching up with friends during the holiday season. Unfortunately, I did not have the restraint to save my only bottle of Cranberry Wine that I brought with me when I moved. It’s long gone. Luckily, there are a bounty of cranberry wines produced by many different midwestern vintners. To help me start forming new traditions, born of old ones, I grabbed a bottle of wine from Country Heritage Winery. A short drive from my new home, this winery produces a Cranberry Riesling by blending (you probably already guessed) cranberries and Riesling grapes. For me, this felt like a fresh twist on an old tradition. The juicy sweetness of the grape is balanced by the tartness of the cranberries, creating a uniquely crisp wine. An ideal bottle to share with any new friends who might stop by for a visit during this holiday season. 

One more unusual annual tradition that I intend to carry on this year is a screening of Fantastic Mr. Fox. My household is a Wes Anderson household and there’s something about the morals of this story and the entire aesthetic of the movie that makes it the perfect Thanksgiving watch. A fantastic movie and a fantastic way to relax after a hectic holiday. Though cider is central to the plot, I thought a fun twist might be to pair this film with wine from an Indiana vineyard. (Something old, something new.) In enters Oliver Winery & Vineyards with the ideal pairing: Apple Pie. This wine is made with 100% fresh pressed apples and balances the fruit’s tart characteristics with luscious vanilla. It may not taste almost exactly like pure, melted gold, but it does taste an awful lot like delicious apple pie in wine form. 

I suppose that, at the end of the day, if I have to distill all of my wild, confusing, unruly thoughts about the upcoming holiday into a pithy statement, all I’ve got to say is: things change. While you can squirrel sentimental bottles of wine away to try to recreate happy moments of nostalgia, you can’t prevent things from changing. Whether that’s good or bad, who knows. I’d like to think that, even when it’s a little sad, it’s probably for the best. My Thanksgiving traditions may be very different from your own, so the right wines for me at this time of year might not be right for you. But, if like me, you’re feeling just slightly untethered this November and could use a suggestion for a way to pass your upcoming Thursday–feel free to borrow my traditions. I’m more than happy to share them with you. And, for the small dedicated following that I have reading this blog, may I just say thank you, thank you, thank you a million times. When I started writing a few months ago, my biggest fear was that no one would care what I had to say and that I’d be harshly faced with that reality if I ever publicly presented my writing. I may not have hundreds of followers, but the loyal few are all I need to be motivated to continue this journey I’ve started. By showing up, reading, and caring even just a little bit about what I have to say, you have given me the most wonderful gift: the gift of feeling seen and believing that my voice matters. At this time of year, and always, I am so eternally thankful for each and every one of you.