Tired of the usual Thanksgiving meal?
The one with the lumpy mashed potatoes, a tired-looking green bean casserole and canned cranberry sauce?
Maybe a sweet potato salad with mangoes and pecans, bourbon-glazed Brussels sprouts with bacon, and cranberry grapefruit relish are more your speed.
On Nov. 14, 20 students crammed into a kitchen at Bethesda's L'Academie de Cuisine to learn how to make just those recipes, and a half-dozen other ways to spice up the normally traditional—boring?—Thanksgiving feast.
"We're basically looking to put new twists on classic dishes," said Chef Allyson Lara, who presented the one-night course. "People want to change, but sometimes don't know how to."
In a room reminiscent of a television cooking studio, complete with mirrors on the ceiling, Lara and her assistants spent three hours blanching, roasting, dicing and pureeing items, from the most traditional potatoes and pumpkin to the more exotic blood oranges and preserved lemon.
Most of the students were self-described "home cooks," people who knew their way around a kitchen, but maybe needed a little prodding to get them to try a new recipe.
"Thanksgiving is always a pretty predictable holiday in terms of the menu," said Chevy Chase resident Olafur Gudmundsson. "I'd really like to try and get a bit more variety in what we cook."
While the school does offer participation classes, where the students cook the items alongside the instructor, the "Thanksgiving on the side" class was a demonstration. Because of the participatory nature, the mood was light-hearted: Wine was served, samples dispersed and Lara cracked jokes with the students.
Lara's advice was simple throughout the evening: Don't stack sweet potatoes when they're roasting, they'll steam too much; always have lots of pots and pans on hand; add a little bacon to anything and people will eat it.
And while the dishes Lara and her crew prepared bore some semblance to Thanksgivings past, the similarities stopped at the basic ingredients. Instead of Stovetop, stuffing took on a Mediterranean flair with chorizo — the spicy Spanish sausage — preserved lemon and pine nuts. Peas took on an herby flavor with mint, while the typically bitter red cabbage was mellowed with Dijon mustard and blood orange juice.
The classes are offered each Thanksgiving, with different specialties for different classes, including a whole class just on turkey preparation.
"I'm a frequent flyer here," said North Bethesda resident Mary Groesch, who takes a few classes a month at the school. "I really like these classes because you get to see the pro chefs work, then go home and try the recipes yourself."
As the class progressed, Mary Bell and Kate Marino, two friends from Frederick County and Bethesda, respectively, diverged on how they would use the recipes they learned throughout the night.
"The first time I do them I'll do them straight from the recipe," Marino said.
"Well, I'll take a look and see what I have in my cabinets and go from there," Bell retorted.
Lara said it doesn't matter whether the students use the recipes she gives out or not, just that they think of Thanksgiving in a new way. After all, during the course she didn't even stick to her own recipes.
"The Thanksgiving menu is very forgiving," she said, after a student asked why she used honey mustard instead of the Dijon listed in the recipe. "As long as it tastes good, go for it."