Relishing the Cranberry

 Some people call it sauce, but this is so far removed from the wobbly red tube that splooches from a can. Not that there’s anything wrong with the wriggly canned stuff, if that’s what floats your gravy boat. 

I have always called this recipe Cranberry Relish. You could also call it a compote, if you want to get all fancy-schmancy about it, and it’s definitely pretty enough to warrant getting all fancy-schmancy about, especially at the holidays! Tart and sweet and orange-y, with a little rum and some toasted walnuts, there’s always room on my holiday table for this beautiful concoction, whatever you want to call it.

I must ask forgiveness for the not-so-great photos here, as I decided at the last minute to write a post on this recipe. I’d already started, so it’s kinda on the fly...oops. 

Anyway, let’s start with the recipe, yeah? My friend Carroll gave me this recipe many, MANY years ago, and I’m so glad she did.

I usually buy two bags of cranberries before Thanksgiving, the smaller 12 ounce size. I freeze one bag to use for Christmas, because for some reason fresh cranberries seem harder to come by in mid December. 

Please please please use fresh oranges if you can, not only because that’s how you get the zest, but because fresh orange juice makes this so much better. Two good sized navel oranges should give you just about one cup of juice. 

In a large saucepan on medium heat, cook the cranberries in the orange juice and the zest...

For the life of me, I could not get a shot of this step where the orange juice looked orange. It looks green, which is weird and not how it looks, but that’s what happens when you have an amateur behind the camera. Which would be me. You get the idea, though, right? K, good. Now, the cranberries will start to pop. Don’t put the heat past medium, because you want the cranberries to soften as they pop. They’ll look like this...

Once the berries start to pop, you do this very sophisticated and technical culinary thing: get a good big wooden spoon and smoosh the berries against the side of the pan to break them up...

Yep, just like that. See why they need to be soft? You can leave a few whole, just mash up the majority. Your mash will start to get kind of a Shocking Pink color (shout out to that fabulous designer from the 30s and 40s, Elsa Schiaparelli, for naming this gorgeous shade)...

Seriously, could we not get a better photographer in here? Ugh. OK, well I realized that I switched a step around here, oops again. The written recipe notes that you add the sugar and rum before you mash the berries, but I generally mash first and then add the sugar & rum. Either way works. Just get the sugar in there...

And the rum. Now, do as I write, not as I do. Measure two tablespoons of rum in. Do not just pour a glug of rum straight from the bottle like my lazy self did...

Sheesh, what a messy counter. Who lives here? Awkward!

Cook this for about 10 minutes. While that’s happening, put about 3/4 of a cup of walnuts in a dry skillet and toast them on medium heat, about five to six minutes until they start to become fragrant. The point here is to let the nuts begin to release their oils a bit.

Cool and then chop the walnuts, and then add them in...

Remove from heat and let it cool a bit, maybe 20 minutes or so. This helps the relish to gel and set a bit. Put it in an airtight container and chill for at least four hours, preferably overnight. 

Despite the many (unprofessional) pictures, this is an easy recipe to make and nice that you can make it ahead a day (or two) so you aren’t running around your kitchen all verklempt, juicing oranges and throwing rum instead of cream into the mashed potatoes. Nobody wants that, seriously.

Much love and many blessings to you all, Happy Thanksgiving 🍁 

❤️ Bonnie