Erica De Mane

Still Life with Pears, by Vincent Van Gogh.

Recipe below: Pears Poached with Star Anise, Vanilla, and Rosé Wine

Due to forces beyond my control, I’m not cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year. I’ll miss my cramped kitchen, with its steamed-up windows and aroma of bitter sage, with its five pots bubbling, four dishes crammed in the oven, and me sweating with happy agitation as I sip a glass of Beaujolais Nouveau (yes, I actually like that stuff). I’m solitary, and if I’m truly in a groove, I’m meditating while I move.

But that’s not happening. Instead, I’m sitting here dreaming about my ideal Italo-Americano Thanksgiving. I know the flavors I’ll want. They start with roasted chestnuts. Then I’ll bring out Ascoli Piceno olives seasoned with rosemary, and celery stalks filled with gorgonzola. At that point, prosecco will seem like a good idea, and maybe a little Gotan Project tango music.

Then we’ll move to the big table for braised radicchio with anchovies and parmigiana, broccoli rabe with garlic and hot chilies, celery root gratin with sage, a loaf of homemade semolina bread, Puglian style, a big platter of crispy, thyme-scented turkey skin—only the skin—with Marsala pan gravy, and lumpy cranberry sauce made with Aperol and orange zest. I’ll open a few bottles of Tuscan Sangiovese, which is perfect with crisp turkey skin. That should fill up the table nicely. Oh, damn, I seem to have forgotten the stuffing. Maybe because I don’t want any. Instead of stuffing we’ll have Callas singing Tosca.

Then there will be a little pause before I offer everyone chilled raw fennel, the palate cleanser of my Southern Italian childhood.

To finish, we’ll move back to my coffee table area and huddle together for one of my favorite desserts, poached pears with rosé wine, star anise, and vanilla. And no Thanksgiving would be complete without walnuts and nutcrackers. Messy but delicious. They do make your teeth feel oddly dry, but that’s easily remedied with a few sips of grappa.

Still, as I say, I won’t be cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year. Yet I can taste all the flavors in my head, feel the humidity trapped in my kitchen. It’s all there. Maybe I’ll open that bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau now.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my cooking friends. Here’s my recipe for the pears.

Pears Poached with Star Anise, Vanilla, and Rosé Wine

(Serves 6)

6 firm pears (I used Red Anjou, but any type that’s not mushy is fine), peeled but with the stems left on
1 bottle dry rosé wine
1 cup sugar
1 vanilla bean, split all the way down
4 whole star anise
1 tub crème fraîche

Place the pears in a wide braising pot, one that will hold them all in one layer. Pour on the wine. Add the sugar, vanilla bean, and star anise. Add water, if needed, to cover the pears.

Heat over a high flame until the wine boils. Then turn the heat down to medium low, and cook at a low bubble, partially covered, until the pears are just tender when poked with a skewer. Depending on how hard your pears are, this will take anywhere from 15 minutes to about 35 minutes. Just test them a few times.

When they’re done,  lift them from their liquid, and sit them, stems up, on a serving platter.

Then reduce the liquid over high heat until you have about a cup of lightly thickened syrup. Let it cool so it can thicken more.

When you’re ready to serve, place each pear on a small, slope-sided dessert plate, and pour an ample amount of syrup over it. Spoon a little dollop of crème fraîche onto the side of each plate (or leave it off if you prefer).