Old World France meets New World America. Preamble of my Mt. Pleasant dry cured sausage, turkey pâté en croûte with currants, a friend’s blood pudding and some Nîmes style brandade. Pickled purple cauliflower accoutrement and mulled cider adulterated with a trickle of George Dickel whisky to warsh it all down, then a bit more for social lubricant. *Consommé du Barry. Turkey consommé from turkey parts from the neighborhood Latino grocer, with a few cauliflower-mornay agnolotti swimming around and florets of different cauliflower varieties clearly visible at the bottom. *Scalloped potatoes sandwiching a middle layer of caramelized onions and anchovies. *My rye bread, as a stuffing with pomegranate seeds, celery root, celery stalks and their leaves. *Pear roasted heritage turkey breast. Roasted on the bone on a bed of pear scraps with shingled bosc pear slices under the skin, basted with pear juices. "Pan Coudoun". Little breads, stuffed with a wedge of cooked quince. Turkey leg ballotines, in their reduced braising juices with some dried cranberries (rather than raisins), mushrooms and a couple sliced gizzards here and there. Cheese, clockwise from center: Livarot, France; Nettle Meadow Kunik, NY; Gorwydd Caerphilly, Wales; Twig Farm Square Cheese, VT; Tarantaise, VT; Mondegueiro, Portugal; Rogue River Blue, OR. Apple tart with a nappage of my quince jelly with murmurs of rosemary and cinnamon. Banda Aceh coffee. Slight case of PTD (post-turkey depression) after having gestated the menu and formulations for the better part of 3 weeks. No glass breakage, pretty girls and early morning grazing on tryptophan & cheese scraps with fingers by the twilight of the frigidaire brings savory solace, albeit cold and perishable.