How to have a Franco-American Thanksgiving

Add a dash of French food obsession with American gluttony and you get a Franco-American meal!

I have to admit, when our French friends Agnès and her incredibly talented daughter-in-law Daniela came to me saying that they were going to host their first Thanksgiving in France, I wasn't really sure what to think.

Daniela is still loosely tied to the incredible food blog "Free the Pickle," that she and a friend started years ago, but has recently stepped back so she can devote more time to raising her devastatingly adorable daughters. What could I possibly bring to the table when it comes to her off the charts cooking skills? I guess other than being American? Yes, that is it! I am the authenticator of their meal. Don't get me wrong, I'm a pretty good cook, but I surely don't have millions of followers who turn to me as an authority on food.... or anything else for that matter.

I had met Agnès ten years ago when I was an assistant in her middle-school English class and was immediately adopted into her family during my year-long stay. Sharing a passion for food, most of our outings revolved around discovering the cuisine of northern France and you could easily say that food has played a big role in our relationship. Since leaving France, we’ve continued to share our cultures via care packages sent across the pond every few months, each filled with traditional goodies reflecting the seasonal tastes of our respective regions. Apple cinnamon or caramel spiced treats are a big hit with her and her family during the holidays and anything pumpkin pie flavored; pumpkin being an important Thanksgiving staple.

Thanksgiving is my absolute favorite holiday and, of course, favorite meal of the whole year. Growing up, my mother would cook the iconic feast in our tiny kitchen, inviting around 30 + people to join our dinner. Aunts, cousins and extended family would descend on the home early in the day and stay until long into the night. The holiday, for me, is filled with warm memories of sharing food, all made from scratch and, of course, lots of love, all while catching up with said family and friends. The tiny house was buzzing with excitement and joy, which resonates with me even now in my late thirties, when the cooking/hosting duties have been passed on to me.

It wasn’t until I started writing this post that it really sunk in how much emotional attachment I have not only to the food and the traditions, but the memories that are associated with it. It made me wonder, was it possible to have a completely authentic Thanksgiving dinner abroad? One that may be void of those traditions passed down from generation-to-generation? Or, would the devastatingly adorable daughters mentioned before be my age one day and reminisce about their ongoing traditional Thanksgiving dinner, aided at the beginning by a quirky American girl who was taken in by their grandmother so many years ago on her adventure abroad? I was hoping it was the latter.

No matter what region you have grown up in, everyone has their own traditions and takes on the classic dishes, many of which have been interpreted in a plethora of different ways. Because of this, I knew it was important to give my first hand experience, but not regard it as the end all be all of Thanksgivings. First things first, we needed a place to discuss the multifaceted meal.

Starting a Whatsapp group chat, we began our planning on how to exactly have an authentic American Thanksgiving abroad. What exactly is available there? What isn’t? By knowing this, I would be better prepared for my next care package to be sent.

We began by discussing what I exactly have at my own Thanksgiving. It was kind of like taking cooked pasta and throwing it at a wall.... will my suggestions stick with a French pallet?

“First question, how easy is it to get a turkey in France?” I asked, knowing the whole meal hinged on their answer. We have a six hour time difference, so messages were sent and received sometimes a day later, but, starting in October, we had a few weeks of time in between.

“I went to my favorite butcher and asked her the question,” Agnès started two days later.

“No, it is not easy to get a turkey before December because they are only sold for Christmas meals here. We’ll probably have to make it with two big chickens,” she added. Chickens?? On Thanksgiving? I thought. No, that wouldn’t do.

I immediately turned to one of my favorite Facebook groups for expats in France to pose the question to my Americans abroad. What exactly were they doing to procure a turkey? Something told me that the Americans living abroad were not using chickens for their Thanksgiving meal and boy did they come through! Response after response came in, all different than the last.

Picking a few of my favorites, I was eager to report my findings back to the girls in our chat. “So, Lidl had them in stock last year and some people are even saying Grand Frais did too. There’s also a website people use called Lescolisduboucher.com that has them for order,” I typed out, hoping one of the options sounded reasonable. “And, if all else fails, someone mentioned that they have driven over the border into Germany.” Silence. Hmm, maybe that was going too far, literally.

A few moments later they both agreed that Lidl and Grand Frais were good options, deciding that the site would be a good backup. With the turkey seemingly settled, we decided to move on to the stuffing. I sent the link for my turkey brine, which flavors match my stuffing.

“I do an orange and rosemary turkey and also flavor my stuffing that way. Look at the brine and let me know if you’d like the stuffing recipe,” I offered.

When Agnès had come to visit us in Pittsburgh in 2019, we had decided the most American thing we could feed her was a true Thanksgiving dinner. So, in my tiny apartment kitchen in the middle of July I prepared the iconic feast.

“I remember seeing your turkey being brined in Pittsburgh, quite impressive,” Agnès typed back. “If we can find a big enough cooking pot, it is certainly the best option!” She added.

Big enough pot? I thought. This is France, home of gastronomy, don’t people have a normal stock pot in their homes? I shrugged it off, knowing that they would be resourceful if that is the route they wanted to take. Daniela, reading our previous messages, weighed in on the topic. “For the dinde (turkey) I think we can check all the options you shared. For the brine (I need to go check exactly what it is) and for the stuffing, maybe something simple but yummy to please everyone, maybe with sausage and apples...” A moment later, a website appeared in the chat containing the recipe for sausage stuffing from Emeril Lagasse. I took a peek at the ingredients, smiling. Italian sausage…how very Emeril. For those of you not living in the U.S. at that time, Emeril was a popular Italian chef on a well-known cooking network around the 2000’s. Almost everything he made had an Italian twist, so the Italian sausage made me laugh. Looking further in the recipe, I noticed the bottom ingredient.

Goat cheese… how French. This recipe makes sense for them I thought, happy to see all the ingredients were easy to acquire in France.

Having googled the concoction, Danila came back to continue our discussion. “Oookk brine = soaking the turkey overnight or many hours as there are pounds of turkey.”

Despite the selection of a different stuffing, Agnès seemed still intrigued about the possibility of using the brine. Digging into the recipe, I noticed one ingredient that may hamper the process.

When I’ve been in France before, I remembered seeing cider, but never non-alcoholic apple cider, which is a key ingredient in the brine. Around the fall season, warm apple cider is a very popular drink here in the U.S. and is served at many fall-themed attractions throughout those cooler months. Looking through Cora’s isles while chatting, Agnès confirmed that apple cider was not something found there. “Well, I’m just shopping at Cora right now! We don’t seem to have non-alcoholic apple cider, but I don’t mind using traditional cider, I suppose they taste roughly the same don’t they?”

I’m not really much of a cider person, so I couldn’t confirm this idea without a little research. After some googling, though, I found that the alcoholic style could be used in order to replace the non-alcoholic kind and the taste wouldn’t be too far off depending which kind you opted for. With the turkey, stuffing and potential brine all worked out and all ingredients easily found in France, we decided to move on to the side dishes. Being the person in my family who hosts Thanksgiving each year, I began to rattled off a list of the usual suspects at my table.

“Ok, so, for sides, we usually have a sweet potato casserole and green bean casserole, mashed potatoes are a must, and corn… can you get corn there?”

I asked, unsure of its status up north. Two years ago, there was a small farm stand at the Vaison market that sold ears of corn, but she wasn’t there last year, making me think it was an item only found from time-to-time. We were also told that most French people don’t really eat corn, which is why you wouldn’t see it too often sold at the weekly markets.

“Yes, we can now,” Agnès confirmed. “Corn on the cob I think?”

“Well, I usually cut it off the cob and serve it that way,” I instructed, trying to give her the most authentic serving of the dish.

“Ok. So that's 4 side dishes so far. I’ve never cooked that many! I’m excited,” she exclaimed.

I took a pause. Something I hadn’t really considered before starting this process was the French relationship with portions and gluttony. Most of my interactions with French people, especially ones older than me, have all centered around the idea that rich, indulgent food should be eaten in small portions and in moderation, an idea that kind of goes against everything Thanksgiving stands for. In the U.S., which is already known for serving incredibly large portions, the holiday is just another excuse to stuff your face until you almost cannot move. Could you have an authentic Thanksgiving without overdoing it when it comes to cooking AND eating?

“Oh goodness,” I started to reply, “that’s nothing. It’s Thanksgiving,” I said, trying to nudge her towards the unthinkable… over indulging!

“If you don’t want to make all of the sides, of course you don’t have to! It’s very American to have too much food,” I added, thinking back to all of the leftover meals I have had the following days later.

“I definitely want to make all the sides and be as American as possible,” she added with a laughing emoji face to the chat.

“Ok, so I usually make mashed potatoes, corn (off the cob), bacon parmesan brussel sprouts, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, glazed carrots, the stuffing of course, and mac and cheese and there is also the cranberry sauce,” I said, looking over the long list.

“Look up green bean casserole. That is a very important one,” I instructed, considering the most popular side dishes of the list.

“I found the recipe,” Agnès confirmed, “I think it’s possible to buy Campbell soups in France now.”

“Eh,” I started, skeptically, “for that one (if you want to make it) I would send the mushroom soup and French fried onions.”

“Alice often used fried onions when she cooked so I think we can get them,” she confirmed, sending a photo.

“These are it! So, what sides are we thinking?”

“These are the sides I have in mind,” Daniela began, jumping back into the conversation. “Obviously mashed potatoes, corn (casserole, sauté, bread), bacon parmesan brussel sprouts (looove this) Green bean sauté in butter and garlic and fried onions, honey glazed carrots, the stuffing of course and cranberry sauce.”

“Are your green beans the traditional ones? Or just beans sautéed with butter and garlic topped with onions? Just asking because I’d have to send something for you to make them in the traditional, Thanksgiving style,” I added, trying to sound unbiased and not too judgey about their choices.

“I think the green beans will be sautéed,” Daniela confirmed.

Another pause. This was the point of planning the most iconic American holiday abroad that I didn't even consider; the emotional ties to certain dishes.

Let me start by saying, as stated above, that absolutely every Thanksgiving table has different foods that were passed down from generation to generation. I'd be surprised to find one table alike. Sure, there are the usual suspects on each table like mashed potatoes, corn, and gravy, but every family has their likes and dislikes along with cultural roots that have formed their typical holiday dinner. So, when the girls suggested just sautéing green beans instead of having one of the most Thanksgiving side dishes of all time, green bean casserole, I about fell out of my chair. Could it be Thanksgiving without that dish?

I sat down on the couch with Andy to get a second opinion.

“If you had to pick one Thanksgiving side dish that is only eaten at Thanksgiving, what would it be?” I asked.

“Hmmm,” he took a moment to consider all of the food, going over each like a rolodex in his head. “We have sweet potatoes and corn throughout the year with dinner. The mashed potatoes and brussels are side dishes we eat every few weeks. I guess if I had to say a dish that is only eaten that meal, I’d have to say green bean casserole and cranberry sauce,” he decided, looking at me quizzically, “why?”

“Agnès wants to have an authentic Thanksgiving, but doesn’t want to include green bean casserole. It kinda feels wrong,” I said with a shrug.

Let me add that this is one of the side dishes that I don't eat, not loving the texture of mushrooms, but the idea of leaving it off the menu almost felt like an assault on Thanksgiving. I took another beat, thinking of those little girls sitting around their table, having their first (of hopefully many) Thanksgiving meals with their wonderful family and I reminded myself that these were the dishes that were going to become their tradition, their story. I looked down at my phone, realizing that Danila had moved on to the next course.

“And for dessert,” she continued, “pumpkin pie cheesecake, pecan pie bars and braided apple pie.”

I am the authenticator of their meal, not my own, I reminded myself, getting back into chat mode.

“Do I need to send cans of pumpkin?” I asked. I thought back to the Beaujolais Nouveau party I went to at the middle school when I was an assistant there. My mom had just sent me a care package with American items, cans of pumpkin being one of them. Wanting to bring something completely foreign, I opted for pumpkin pie dip.

**Photo:** **TheGirlWhoAteEverything.com**

Everyone was intrigued, most of the teachers associating the gourd with a savory flavor. I also remember most people mentioning that you couldn’t get cans of pumpkin in France. “I think we wouldn’t find pumpkin cans in France,” Agnès confirmed. I added it to my list of care packing items.

“Do you need evaporated milk?” I asked, thinking of how silly it would be to ship a box full of heavy canned goods. “We have condensed milk in France, so maybe you don’t need to send some (c’est lourd en plus),” Daniela replied, following my same train of thought.

“If we want to get traditional… I could send you graham crackers, for the crust,” I added for clarification. Graham crackers are something so simple, but something I’ve never found while traveling around France. This summer, when making my neighbors a modified version of key lime pie, I found myself using Biscoff cookies, but yearning for the real deal. “Yeeeeeahhh great idea!” Daniela excitedly typed. “In the U.S. that is what cheesecake is made with, but you don’t have to do what we do, you’re making your own traditions,” I said, adding a little smiley face at the end.

“I think it’s a great idea, I’m happy to try with the original ingredient,” she added.

“Another question: apart from the side dishes and the desserts, and the turkey itself of course, are there any starters? And what kind of drinks should we provide for?” Agnès asked, jumping back into the conversation.

“Hmmm,” I started. “I think for each family, this is very different. Growing up, the traditional appetizer before the meal was just simply ants on a log with cream cheese or peanut butter.” I searched the internet looking for the best rendition of this concept before screenshotting a photo and sending. “It was something light, but just enough to hold you over. At my Thanksgiving, though, I usually do a charcuterie board for people to just nibble at. As for drinks, there aren’t any strictly Thanksgiving drinks that I know of, but I always make these two drinks and my dad brings bottles of wine he has made,” I added the links to my two favorite drink recipes: Chai Espresso Martinis and Spiced Cranberry Punch.

Wow,” Agnès added with surprise, “one more challenge, that’s completely new for me.”

“?? What is it,” I asked, a bit confused.

“The drinks!”

“Oh! No, they are so easy! I make them a few days before and store them.” I reassured her.

“That’s what I’ll do I think,” she agreed, “you can feel I’m a bit stressed. I’m joking, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

At this moment, I realized that I hadn’t shared another layer of Thanksgiving facts.

“So, it’s tradition for one person to make the turkey and stuffing, but in my house everyone brings something to the meal. Maybe a side dish or a cocktail. So, put everyone to work! You don’t have to do this alone,” I said, hoping she’d feel able to dole out the work.

“Ah, that’s a great idea! That’s exactly what I’ll do,” she confirmed.

A day later I received a notification while at school from Agnès. The first few words were all that popped up in my notification bar and I began to get a little worried. “Something unexpected happened”. Clicking it, however, I was instantly relieved.

“Something unexpected happened: my butcher suddenly told me she could get one! So I ordered it and we’ll have it right on time!”

“That’s great!” I added, a bit relieved that the star of the show could officially make its grand appearance. “Girls… a question…. Do we have traditional cranberry sauce there?”

“Oh no I’m pretty sure we don’t,” Agnès confirmed.

Adding cranberry sauce to my list, I let out a sigh. The meal was finally complete! Agnès sent the line up for one last look over before confirming.

“We asked Romaine and Justine to bring 2 side dishes and they said ok! So that’s what we decided:

Appetizers: Crudités

Side dishes: Mashed potatoes (Romaine), Corn (sauté and cornbread), bacon and parmesan brussels sprouts, green beans casserole (sauté with fried onions and garlic butter), honey glazed carrots (Romaine), cranberry sauce and hasselback sweet potatoes.

Desserts: Pumpkin cheesecake, pecan bars and braided apple pie

Drink: Cranberry punch

With Daniela by her side, I knew Agnès was going to put together the most incredible first Thanksgiving and I was so honored to be a part of it. Taking a few things from me, a couple of things from a deep dive into the internet and combining family tastes, they are going to create not only the most delicious meal, but the most incredible memories.

What are some unusual side dishes that have been passed down from generation-to-generation in your family? Are you living abroad and have tried to recreate your own Thanksgiving there? Was it successful?

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