Dominican Thanksgiving with Cranberry Sauce

It is Saturday afternoon and I am on a train. New York City, Newark, and Philly are well behind. The Nation’s capital is next, and Charlottesville will be my final destination.

Thanksgiving dinner—Dominican style of course—with the family in New York City, was quite peculiar. Our Thanksgiving dinner resembled a Dominican Christmas feast, except that it was November, we were dining in the American North, and there was cranberry sauce on the table. 

Dominican cuisine usually does not use cranberry, which is a template-climate fruit, but I requested it since I had it in the past and liked the taste. Only my grandma, who had never had cranberry sauce with her meal before, and I had some of the delicious sauce. The rest of the dishes on the table were typical dishes Dominicans have during the holidays.

My mom cooked a turkey, seasoned with Goya products, garlic, onion, oregano, and other spices. She also roasted a pork leg or pernil, a typical and delicious dish from the DR. My grandma made some of her famous mash potato salad with beets. We also had yellow rice with green beans, or Moro de Guandules. There was no corn, or mashed potatoes, sweet potatos, gravy, or any of the good stuff one finds in a typical American Thanksgiving dinner.

This holiday experience truly represents how an immigrant family acculturates into the American culture without leaving behind their Caribbean roots. But Thanksgiving is more than a meal and the peculiarity of dishes. It is about connecting with the family, catching up, giving thanks for the things we are grateful for.

Although my dinner was no more American than cranberry sauce, its nature represented what President George Washington envisioned when he declared the last Thursday in November as a day to give thanks.

It is Saturday afternoon and I am on a train. I see a lake, a bridge, and small houses outside my window. The sun settles in the west. My final destination is coming up.