One person can only eat so much. Sure, I push that limit regularly — I can eat more chicken wings than you — but the truth holds firm.
On Thanksgiving — the day dedicated to gratitude and gluttony — stomach space is at a premium. You’ve got to spend that gastric budget wisely. There’s no room for mediocrity on the plate.
All that sounds reasonable, right? Now comes the controversial part — this series is called Don't @ Me, after all. I’ve taken it upon myself to rank Thanksgiving dishes, and here’s why: you don’t need to waste your precious stomach space on anything less than greatness. This is the biggest eating day of the year; don’t squander it on food that doesn’t deliver.
Before we dive in, a couple of disclaimers:
I ranked 15 Thanksgiving staples, curated with input from a sizable sample of Mashable colleagues. Your family’s quirky favorite might not have made the cut.
This is my list based on my tastes. I’m not a professional chef, but I am an experienced home cook and erstwhile Internet Food Guy.
This list is definitive. Don’t like it? Tough. Make your own.
OK, let’s dig in — ranked in descending order.
Oftentimes, a Thanksgiving host feels the need to have something fresh and green on the table. That's all well and good. Salads can be great. But Thanksgiving is not the day for salads. And with all the work that's gone into the main dishes, you know the salad is a sad afterthought — likely some mixed greens and an under-seasoned vinaigrette.
Not a dessert. Not really a side. Sweet potato casserole exists only so the kids at the table can munch on burned marshmallows.
This one-note, too-creamy dish was created by Campbell's to sell you cans of cream of mushroom soup. It's not bad, per se, but it's of its time: a '50s concoction of convenience. If you're craving something creamy and savory, there are far better options on the table.
Sure, those Sara Lee dinner rolls taste fine enough. They're not offensive. But they're filling and completely plain. It's the biggest eating day of the year, and you're going for overly processed, mushy bread? No thanks.
I don't love cranberry sauce. Still, I respect it. Let's be real: It's a once-per-year dish, but it does yeoman's work. On a dinner plate filled with savory, buttery, and fatty dishes, it brings a bit of acidity and sweetness. A scoop or a slice of the canned stuff does wonders to break up — and enhance — the flavors of the star dishes.
Ham has a high floor but a low ceiling. It's unlikely you'll have a gross spiral ham. It's just as unlikely you'll have a life-changing ham. Ham's tagline might as well be: It's ham.
I like cornbread, and it leaves so much room for creativity. A jalapeño and cheese cornbread? Freaking lovely. But on Thanksgiving, I want a small slice and not much more. It's solid. It's not a star.
Full disclosure: I'm not a dessert person. If you've got a sweet tooth, you'd probably have desserts higher on your list. That being said, I do love pecan pie. It's my second-favorite pie, behind only...
I love pumpkin pie. Give me a slice engulfed in a cocoon of whipped cream, and I'll be good for dessert. It's also a dish synonymous with Thanksgiving, which adds a bit of nostalgia.
Skip the salad and eat the collards. Granted, bad collard greens could be disappointing. But assuming they're cooked well, collard greens have that salty, unctuous bite while also breaking up the brownish hue of your plate.
Let's be clear: Mac and cheese is freaking delicious. Even bad mac and cheese is pretty good. It's pasta drenched in a gooey cheese sauce; there is nothing to dislike. But we're reaching the peak of the rankings here, and mac and cheese doesn't scream Thanksgiving to me. People eat it all year round. It doesn't feel as special as some of the other top dishes. Still, I will take a heaping scoop on my plate.
Turkey gets a bad rap. Much of the food-focused internet will have you believe it's more an obligation than a feature at the Thanksgiving table. Everyone talks about it being dry, or bland, or whatever.
But a well-roasted turkey is none of those things! It is buttery and herbaceous and the perfect protein that goes with the other stars of the table. Turkey drippings make gravy possible. Its leaner nature pairs well with creamy mashed potatoes and carb-forward stuffing. And, importantly, it simply is Thanksgiving. For better or worse, it has become the literal centerpiece of the meal. If you're not serving turkey, I'm not attending.
Do I have to sell you on the merits of mashed potatoes? They're freaking delicious. I love any style of mashed potato: creamy, rustic, red potato, an ultra-buttery pommes purée, whatever. And they're the perfect delivery vehicle for No. 2...
If your plate isn't swimming in gravy, you're doing it wrong. Gravy is the predominant flavor of Thanksgiving. It is the fatty, delectable lube that helps the meal ease into your gullet. It's not something you get to eat often, but on Thanksgiving, it is absolutely essential. It brings everything to life. Sure, it's a sauce and not really a dish, but it deserves this high ranking regardless.
Stuffing was always the winner.
I don't fully comprehend why stuffing is limited to a Thanksgiving-only dish, but that's reality. In some ways, I enjoy that fact because I treasure gorging on stuffing annually. The stock-soaked bread, the fresh herbs, the crispy edges, maybe some crumbled sausage — it's so good, and it screams Thanksgiving. Stuffing is why you should not be filling up on dinner rolls. Every roll you eat is stomach space wasted on bland bread that could, instead, be devoted to the savory, gravy-soaked wonder that is stuffing.
Opinions vary on Thanksgiving food. I'm sure most folks would have edits to my list, but I hope we can all agree on one thing: Leave the salad for the other 364 days of the year.
