Giving thanks at/for Eastern Standard
This year we wanted somewhere new, and after considering the options for about two minutes decided on Eastern Standard for our Thanksgiving feast. (The promise of pheasant galantine may have factored in this decision.)
So that's where we began. The galantine for me, with lightly pickled and curried veggies:
And for The Boy, a fabulous duck confit tart with local mushrooms.
Though the galantine was good — somehow both sophisticated and rustic at the same time — the tart was amazing. The Boy accurately identified the reason:
"Fat," he said. "The confit? It's fat. The pastry? Made with fat. It's all fat, baby."
The mushrooms balanced the duck and gave it depth. And the cranberries cut through the fat (the lovely, lovely fat) and added a brightness. And it wasn't dense or heavy; it was a perfect lead-in to the main event.
Which was, of course:
Beautifully juicy turkey, creamy mashed potato, cornbread dressing, a smooth, almost pureed cranberry sauce, candied yams, and a generous pour of gravy.
No greens, though, so we also asked for a side of brussels sprouts, which came with sweet shallots.
And then on to dessert. For The Boy, the traditional (loaded) pecan pie.
For me, the punkin pie, which came with a buttery shortbread cookie sparkling with sugar.
Looking back at last year's write-up of Thanksgiving at Rialto, I realized we'd planned on staying home for turkey this year. Oops! But given how fabulous the meal was, and how lovely (as always) the staff of Eastern Standard were, I'm glad we have such short memories.