Our Traditional Sensorial Thanksgiving
We don't just do holidays. We commit to them.
If there’s one thing our family does well, it’s a holiday. Actually, that’s not quite true; we don’t do holidays, we commit to them like they’re a competitive sport. And Thanksgiving? That’s the championship game. Before we dive into our family chaos, traditions, and the role Dancing now plays in the whole thing, here’s a look at why Thanksgiving in our house is never ever half-assed.
Cynthia: Thanksgiving at our house is serious. I come from a long line of women who treat holidays like sport—competitive, full-out, no days off, no excuses. Always at a family home, nowadays either Sonoma or Connecticut, in the old days my mom’s home in Southern California. My mother ran a diner with my father, so feeding people wasn’t just tradition; it was identity. We always take in strays and lots of family.
Lauren: We go hard. All Russell holidays are theatrical productions. My mom once dyed scrambled eggs green for Saint Patrick’s Day, even though no one in our family is Irish. Thanksgiving, though, is the Olympics. It’s the one holiday where every single family member becomes an ingredient in the meal.
Cynthia: I handle the cranberry sauce and the stuffing, a non-negotiable. I also make a salad that Lauren reminds me no one eats. The men do the turkey and mashed potatoes. They take it very seriously. My youngest son makes sweet potatoes, supervised heavily. My daughter-in-law brings the biscuits, and the guests bring pie.
Lauren: The most stressful part? The oven schedule. And every year brings some curveball, an unexpected guest, a last-minute cancellation. But that’s the thing: it’s our chaos. Ritualized, sentimental, hilarious chaos.
Dancing Shows Up at Thanksgiving
Cynthia: Dancing is made for the holidays. It’s easy, fun, and smells like the kind of night where people laugh too loudly and linger too long after dessert. Wine and scent are half the magic of any meal, and Dancing was created with that exact energy in mind.
Lauren: Zinfandels were practically built for Thanksgiving food and it doesn’t hurt that ours and the label always gets a reaction, the bottle feels like a gift, and it pairs with everything. Our rosé and bubbly work too—Thanksgiving is a multisensory experience, and that’s literally what we do. A well-set table, good music, the smell of a fireplace, the swirl of a glass—hosting is a full-body sport, and we like it that way.
Cynthia Russell Thanksgiving Playbook
1. Build the Master Plan
Start with a written timeline and be ready to jump into action starting 2 to 3 days out. Consider your oven schedule, too.
2. Protect the Menu
Guests don’t need to bring food. Come and enjoy. I don’t want them to mess with our very curated menu. They have the option to take on the dessert or a salad.
3. Say No to Appetizers
We keep everything homemade and everybody works really hard. Save your appetite for the main event.
4. Set the Table Early
Create the ambiance the day before. I’ve been collecting little knick-knacks my whole life that I bring out for each season. Make it seasonal and personal. Forage for some herbs, bring out the linens, china, silver, glasses, and place cards.
5. Serve Food Straight from the Cooking Vessel
We don’t transport to new plates. Everything should stay hot.
6. Champagne First
A magnum, if possible. Then open a great wine.
7. No Screens
No phones, no TV, no football. Just the company of each other.
8. Maintain Important Rituals
A group turkey trot in the morning, 20 years of the same menu, and everyone makes a toast at dinner. Traditions matter!
A Very Russell Thanksgiving Menu, 2025
Sqirl Flaky Ass Biscuits and GOOD butter sprinkled with some sea salt and herbs
Some leafy green thing my mom insists upon, usually a spinach salad with some pears and parmesan cheese, just for the illusion of health
Aunt Jody’s famous corn casserole, a proprietary mix of Jiffy corn muffin mix, creamed corn, canned corn, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and peppers
Turkey: we’ve experimented with preparations, whether smoked or oven-roasted
Grandma’s mashed potatoes (mostly butter, honestly)
Aunt Tracy’s sweet potatoes, ever debating whether the brown sugar pecan side or the mini marshmallows are better
Homemade Cranberry sauce using Nantucket cranberries
Grandma’s stuffing, stuffed into the turkey of course
Grandma’s gravy using all the innards and fresh stock
Some mystery dish guests bring that we didn’t ask for
Pies!
Dancing wine on repeat
Lauren: As everyone has gotten older, married, reproduced, or moved, our table has shrunk a bit. We’ve “culled,” if you will. This year is intimate: immediate family and local in-laws.
For once, we don’t need piano benches or ottomans as emergency seating. It’ll be warm, candlelit, and filled with the smells that raised us. And on the table—right in the middle—will be a bottle of Dancing. Because somehow, without planning it, our wine has become part of the family tradition too.