Farce or Faith: A Thanksgiving Story

If you missed this week’s Substack Live with my new friend Nicki Sizemore of Mind, Body, Spirit, FOOD, the video above is worth a watch. We covered nearly every Thanksgiving question imaginable—from brining and carving to appetizers, crispy turkey skin, freezing green beans, and our favorite sides. Nicki walked everyone through her foolproof gluten-free pie crust, and I demoed the holiday stuffing sausage I’ve made for years. (The full recipe for the sausage is below for paid subscribers).If you’re a free subscriber and want the recipe, here’s a holiday treat:Simply like this post, and I’ll send the recipe to you for free!—my way of saying thanks for being here.If you’re not a subscriber yet, here’s your chance. Join the Enlightened Omnivore family and consider supporting my publication.I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous about our live conversation; new tech, spotty Internet, on-camera vanity—do I really look like that? But once we went live, it felt natural. Two cooks. Two coasts. One shared belief: food connects us to memory, meaning, and each other. It reminded me why I cook at all—why gather together, why keep showing up for one another in a world that can feel sharp and chaotic.That feeling, more than anything, inspired this week’s piece. I hope you enjoy it….Farce or Faith: A Thanksgiving StoryIt feels like the country isn’t quite ready for Thanksgiving this year. Less than two weeks out and the news cycle is nasty, like one long political farce. Some days it’s hard to remember what we should be thankful for? I mean, who has enough left in the tank to give to those who don’t?Food has a funny way of mirroring our moods, which made me think about another kind of farce—the culinary one. It’s the word used in French cooking for loose sausage or forcemeat, and comes from the verb farcir, “to stuff.” I couldn’t help but think of all the things I’m trying to cram into the last few days before the long Holiday weekend. But here’s the thing about farce: the real beauty is that it is used to make linked sausages, pâtés, terrines—foods that turn humble scraps into something remarkable and delicious. And isn’t that the quiet magic of Thanksgiving? We gather up the odds and ends of a chaotic year—the scraps, the sweetness, the hard edges—and somehow transform them into something nourishing for body and soul. Farce does that in the kitchen; holiday tradition does that at the table.Stuffing: The Soul of ThanksgivingNicki and I agree: stuffing is the unsung hero of the Thanksgiving table. Sure, I said on the Substack Live that my favorite side was Brussels Sprouts. I couldn’t agree with her on camera about everything!But the dirty little secret is that, in my fridge, leftover stuffing disappears way faster than those green little cabbages do.Where Nicki’s version of stuffing leans sweet and savory with a cornbread base (check out her website for the recipe), mine starts with lots of olive oil, some chunky celery and onions, a few foraged mushrooms (black trumpet if I’m lucky) and Herbes de Provence. Then I add the crisp Granny Smiths, homemade bone broth, a drizzle of schmaltz or butter, and day-old bread—preferably sourdough—that can drink it all in. Garnished with fresh parsley, and baked until the top turns golden and craggy, if I had my way, I’d happily skip every other dish on the table.And yes, the secret ingredient in my stuffing is (surprise!) the sausage, a recipe born from my meat-cutting days at Electric City Butcher. We used to sell it as an “add-on” to the hundreds of Thanksgiving orders we received each year. Guests gladly bought pounds of the stuff. But here’s the truth: you can make this simple farce at home in minutes. Really.If “homemade sausage” sounds intimidating, it shouldn’t. You don’t need casings, grinders, or a cleaver tattoo. You just need good pork, holiday spices, and a mixing bowl, a standing mixer is better. In five minutes, you can make a sausage fresher, brighter, and far more honest than anything in a shrink-wrapped tube.My version leans into the season—sage, fennel, thyme, garlic, ginger, nutmeg, black pepper—the kind of sausage that tastes the way the holidays smell. Its name is a misnomer– well marketing really. It’s not only good for stuffing. Make a little extra of this farce and fold it into soups, scrambles, and day-after-Thanksgiving sandwiches (preferably slathered with gravy instead of mayo). Enlightened Omnivore is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Why We CookWhat I love most about Substack is meeting people like Nicki. Her work reflects a real philosophy of presence—the idea that cooking is a form of mindfulness, not just meal prep. I’ve always believed that too. For me, the kitchen is where the world slows down just enough to notice the good stuff: the smell of spices blooming in hot fat, the heartbeat rhythm of a knife against the cutting board, a curious gaze from my kids on holiday break admiring my craft.Cooking—especially for the holidays—is an act of faith, an offering of service, a small rebellion against cynicism. Cooking is a way to shut out the sadness, the hurt, the injustice of a world that can be ugly and mean at times. And it’s an opportunity to welcome in the sweet and savory nourishment that only mindful eating can provide. It’s proof that even when the edges feel cracked, we can still gather in the gooey center to share in the warmth and wholesomeness that builds something beautiful from a handful of ingredients grown in the sacred soil of this fragile blue-and-green marble spinning through space.The holidays have a way of making me forget the challenges—at least for a few weeks. They instill hope for the future. They remind me of ancient traditions anchored in gratitude that go much further back than Manifest Destiny. And most of all, the holidays bring together all the people who I am blessed to call friends and family. I can’t wait to share the bounty of this year, good and bad, with them at my table.May your Thanksgiving be savory where it should, tender where it matters, just a little sweet, and filled with whatever—and whoever—you choose to stuff into it this season.(scroll down for the recipe)All paid subscribers get my “secret” sausage recipe below, and more than a dozen recipes each year. For the rest of you, Christmas has come early. If you like today’s post, I’ll send you the sausage recipe for free!Let’s Stay Connected* Follow along on YouTube, Instagram and TikTok for video content, reels, and behind-the-scenes thoughts. I’m also on Facebook and LinkedIn.* Like the podcast? Please consider leaving a review wherever you listen. It helps so much.* Say hi on Substack Notes—I’m posting almost every day about my random reflections on life.* Join me in Chat. It’s a space just for subscribers, kind of like a group text but less embarrassing. Download the app, tap the Chat icon (it looks like two speech bubbles at the bottom), and find the latest “Enlightened Omnivore” thread.RECIPE: HOLIDAY STUFFING SAUSAGEThe secret to great sausage isn’t equipment—it’s technique. Weigh everything. Mix gently. Taste before you commit. And—for the love of gravy—use enough salt. Below is the full recipe, along with a few tips to help you get the most flavorful, holiday-perfect stuffing sausage possible.Before You Begin: Tips for Better SausageChoose the right porkPork shoulder (often labeled Boston butt or Pork butt) has the ideal fat ratio—about 60/40 lean to fat. If you can, buy heritage-breed pork(Duroc, Berkshire, Red Wattle, Gloucestershire). Heritage breeds have deeper flavor, richer fat, and a natural sweetness that makes it far superior to standard commodity pork. Also, they tend to be raised more responsibly.Use dry seasonings: Wet herbs and fresh aromatics can add moisture, which leads to a dense, pasty sausage—especially inside stuffing. Dry spices bloom beautifully once mixed into the meat.Mix, don’t mash: A gentle mix helps emulsify the fat without turning the sausage into glue. A stand mixer on low for about a minute is perfect. The farce is ready when it starts to bind, becoming slightly tacky and bouncy. You might even start to get a fragrant whiff of spices. (Professionals check that the mix reaches 47°F, but don’t stress if you don’t have a thermometer).Always test before you commit: Fry up a quarter-sized patty and taste it. Ninety percent of sausage mistakes come down to one issue: not enough salt. Adjust as needed before stuffing (or sautéing) the whole batch.Yield: 2 lb sausage (easily scaled up)Ingredients* 2 lb pork shoulder, finely ground (or substitute boneless chicken thigh)* 16 g kosher salt* 2 g ground ginger* 2 g lightly crushed fennel seed* 2 g fine black pepper* 2 g ground nutmeg* 4 g garlic powder* 3 g fresh sage, finely chopped* 2 g dried thyme* 4 g onion powder* A splash of cold water (just enough to loosen spices into a slurry)Instructions* Make the seasoning slurryCombine all spices and herbs in a small bowl. Add just enough cold water to form a thick, spoonable slurry. (This helps distribute the seasonings evenly through the meat).* Mix the farce.Add the slurry to the ground meat. Mix by hand or with a stand mixer on low speed for 45–60 seconds, just until the mixture becomes cohesive and slightly sticky.* Taste test.Heat a small skillet and fry a bite-sized patty. Taste and adjust salt if needed. (Don’t skip this step—your holiday stuffing will thank you).* Chill or use immediately.Your farce is now ready for stuffing, scrambles, soups, or next-day sandwiches.* Refrigerate up to 3 days* Freeze up to 1 yearEnlightened Omnivore is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit enlightenedomnivore.substack.com/subscribe