Squash the routine with savory sides
We tend to stick with tried-and-true vegetable dishes at the year's great feasts, probably because our anxiety over cooking the big bird -- and fussing over gravy at the last minute -- leaves no time or energy to experiment with sides. The traditional Thanksgiving go-alongs are carbohydrate heaven: mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and carrots, these occasionally enlivened by cranberry something-or-other.
Maybe it's the perception that the New England vegetable crop starts to run pretty short by the end of November. In fact, a cornucopia of produce is available for the taking, lending variety and interest to a spread all too often dominated by bowls of steaming starch.
This is the season the root family comes into its own, sweetened by the first touch of frost. Carrots and potatoes are only the beginning: Who can resist red and golden beet salads, roasted parsnips, sweet buttered young turnips? Equally unsung, and equally good, are caramelized fennel, nutty Jerusalem artichokes, and the refined-tasting, if homely, celeriac.
It's also the best time of year for cabbages and leafy greens. Stout kale and chard leaves turn tender and sweet after the ground hardens. Brussels sprouts are small, tightly packed, and flavorful at this time of year, ready to win converts after a tender braise in brown butter. The last of the fall arugula and spinach are made for piquant, barely wilted salads with citrusy dressings.
No holiday table is complete without winter gourds: the pumpkins, kabochas, delicatas, acorn, and Hubbard squashes that delight the eye as much as the palate. Tradition dictates pumpkin pie and squash purees, but I have been seduced by squash soups. And there are few sides more sublime than roasted cubes of winter squash, gilded with butter just after the point of caramelization.
As easy as it is to steam spinach or boil a potato, it's usually an assertive balancing flavor that gives great vegetable sidekicks their depth and versatility. Bitter greens grow sweet and fascinating accompanied by toasted walnuts, hazelnuts, or pine nuts. Starches get a lift from dried fruits such as currants or cranberries, even citrus rind. And a scattering of seasonal wild fungi lend a deep, forest note to savory dishes.
Recent years have blessed the cookbook shelf with a number of works offering fresh vegetable inspiration. Barbara Kafka's ''Vegetable Love" (Artisan, 2005), a deeply informative look at everything from adzuki beans to yuca, is the latest of the lot. Many of the recipes fall short in the execution -- mismatched quantities, vague instructions -- hardly Kafka's usual careful work, though I did find a delicious cream of celeriac soup.
Other recent vegetable books have become staples on my shelf. I return repeatedly to Paul Gayler's inspired ''A Passion for Vegetables" (Globe Pequot, 2003), with its exotic Jerusalem artichoke souffle, saffron-braised potatoes with paprika, and slow-roasted radicchio with pancetta and raisins.
Last year's ''The Gourmet Cookbook" changed my view of green beans with its recipe containing ground almonds (instead of slivers in a buttery skillet). Molly Stevens's extraordinary ''All About Braising" includes, almost in passing, a recipe for creamy braised Brussels sprouts that felled me with its deliciousness the first time I tried it.
Rediscovering the world of vegetable sides may not be the highest priority on your to-do list this week. But even if you stick with the candied yams and mashed spuds you always make on Thursday, you may yet change your mind on Friday morning. You'll be needing something delicious that goes with, say, a week of turkey leftovers.
