Thanksgiving mornings were chaos when I was a kid, and my dad was always in the middle of it. There’d be butter splattering from the turkey basting, bowls of Brussels sprouts balanced on each other, pans of mushrooms hissing. It was always right at the most hectic moment when he’d look up, tears in his eyes (from the onions he was chopping), and declare, “Thanksgiving is the best holiday, because it’s all about the food.”

What he was talking about was not just the meal itself, but the messy, convivial process of everyone cooking it together: the garlic mincing, vegetable trimming and pie-dough rolling, all punctuated by the chatting, kvetching and endless debate over whether the turkey was finally done.

For me, the joy comes in pressing the butter into the flour with my fingers for pie crust, while my husband, Daniel, mashes butter and bourbon into the sweet potatoes. As friends and family arrive, they end up in the kitchen, too, wine glasses and potato peelers pressed into their hands. And just as when I was a kid, there’s the chatting, the kvetching and the endless debate about whether the turkey is finally done.

I realize it may not be like this for everyone. Thanksgiving can be stressful. Expectations run high, turkeys burn, pies bubble over. But I believe that if you engineer your day so you can cook with those you love and find happiness doing it, then no one will notice if the white meat’s a little dry. (That’s what gravy is for.) 

My dad died last year, a few weeks before Thanksgiving, so we skipped the big feast. It was too soon to do it without him. This year we’re finding our rhythm again, and I’ll host at my place for the first time, making the foods we love. There’ll be far too much of it, but that’s OK. Thanksgiving, of course, is all about the food.

Sweet Potatoes With Bourbon and Brown Sugar

My daughter Dahlia rushed into the house one day last November, slamming the door, stamping her feet, and glaring at us.

“You’ve been depriving me of marshmallows all my life!” she said.

It was true. My family never served marshmallow-topped sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving. We didn’t like them, and since Dahlia hadn’t known of their gooey existence, we’d felt no need to enlighten her. Now she’d heard. We were busted.

Our sweet potatoes are a more grown-up affair, a dish that my husband, Daniel, brought to the table while he and I were still dating. His recipe, which he adapted from the chef Deborah Madison, called for roasting whole sweet potatoes, mashing them with huge amounts of butter and bourbon and sprinkling them with cloves, cinnamon and allspice. He’d mash them with a fork, purposely leaving a bit of texture.

I’ve tweaked his recipe here and there, most significantly changing the texture. I like a silkier puree, so I whirl the potatoes in the food processor. It’s faster, and the food processor doesn’t make them gluey the way it does regular potatoes. I also added a little lemon zest for brightness, and a touch of dark brown sugar for depth.

Now that Dahlia is in the know, I scoop some of the puree into a ramekin, top it with mini-marshmallows, and broil it until browned. Of the many injustices of her childhood, this one was pretty easy to fix.

• 3- 1/2 pounds sweet potatoes, pricked with a fork (10 to 12 sweet potatoes)
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 3 to 4 tablespoons dark brown sugar, or to taste
• 1 -1/2 tablespoons bourbon or orange juice (brandy or dark rum can be substituted for bourbon)
• 3/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest (or substitute orange zest for a slightly sweeter citrus flavor)
• 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• Large pinch of ground cloves

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Wrap potatoes in foil, place on a rimmed baking sheet and bake until tender, about 1 hour. Let rest until cool enough to handle; remove foil and peel.

Add sweet potatoes to a food processor, along with butter, brown sugar, bourbon or juice, lemon zest, salt, nutmeg, pepper and cloves. Puree until smooth. (For a chunkier texture, mash by hand.) Taste and add salt, sugar or both. Serve while still warm or reheat before serving. Serves 10 to 12.

Nutritional information unavailable.

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Broccoli With Fried Shallots and Olives

No one in my family wanted to veer too far from the traditional holiday triumvirate — turkey, stuffing, gravy — and so the green vegetable dish was our chance to go wild.

Green bean casserole never really found a place at our table, though. We stir-fried green beans with Sichuan peppercorns; sauteed kale with garlic, cumin and red-pepper flakes; roasted Brussels sprouts with curry leaves and mustard seeds.

The green vegetable was also the first Thanksgiving dish I really put my stamp on. This was when I was in high school. While my father was busy laboring over the turkey, I would quietly slice garlic or grind spices, finishing the prep but not turning on the heat until everyone else was ambling to the table. As much as I embrace cooking in advance, green vegetables benefit most from last-minute attention. They’re just better that way.

The key is to pick something that cooks quickly, and for that, broccoli fits perfectly. I can blanch it the day before, so it just needs the briefest stint in a hot pan, along with some olives and the requisite garlic. I love to garnish the vegetables with crisp fried shallots; those too can be made the day before. They add flair, and remind me of the fried onions on all those green bean casseroles I never had.

• 2-1/2 pounds broccoli (about 2 standard bunches), stems peeled and cut into 1/2-inch pieces, florets cut into bite-size pieces
• 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
• 4 shallots, sliced into rings
• 5 fat garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup chopped pitted olives, such as Kalamata, Nicoise or Picholine (a combination of black and green is nice)
• 1 -1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, or to taste
• 2 teaspoons sherry vinegar, or to taste (optional)

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add broccoli and blanch until just tender, 1 to 3 minutes. Drain well and transfer to a large bowl.

Heat oil in a small pot over medium heat. In batches so they don’t crowd the pot, fry shallots until light golden, 4 to 6 minutes, reducing heat if they brown too quickly. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate. Sprinkle with salt as you go.

Keep the oil in the pot, and carefully stir in garlic and olives. Cook until garlic starts to turn golden, about 3 minutes.

Pour hot oil, garlic and olives over broccoli, then sprinkle with salt. To brighten flavor, toss in vinegar. Garnish with fried shallots. Serves 8 to 10.

Nutritional information unavailable.

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