A few years back, I was working at a fancy restaurant and pulled a shift on Thanksgiving day. The sous chef, my direct boss, was off, so it would be just the executive chef and me. I was still new and eager to prove myself to the chef. He told me he wanted me to make the cranberry sauce for dinner and simply told me, “Be creative.”
I happily got to work, adding fresh cranberries, spices, and various other ingredients to a simmering pot. I left the pot on the stove and went back to prepping. I came to check on it 30 minutes later and, to my horror, found a pot of charcoal where my sauce had been. Someone had bumped the knob, and my sauce was ruined.
I panicked. With just 30 minutes until dinner service began, I didn’t have time to start over and still get everything else done. I slipped out of the restaurant, ran to the corner store, grabbed two cans of cranberry sauce, and ran back to the restaurant. I dumped the cans into a pot, tossed in a rosemary sprig, and heated it on the stove for five minutes. I served the sauce that night as my own, and no one was the wiser. The next day, the sous chef pulled me aside and told me everyone was raving about how good the cranberry sauce was, and the chef was impressed with me.
The Lesson of a Quick-Hack Cranberry Sauce
What saved me that night was thinking on my feet. I’m sure the cranberry sauce I had on the stove would have been acceptable, but the combination of the ultra-sweet, slightly tart canned cranberry paired with the rosemary is what really drove my sauce home. These two flavors individually are mainstays of the Thanksgiving table, but together, they’re a powerhouse duo in sweet and savory applications.
Think about it: the traditional Thanksgiving spread is a lot of carby, fatty, beige foods. Which are absolutely delicious, don’t get me wrong, but there’s not a lot of counterpoint. Salty, umami turkey covered in savory, fatty gravy with a side of salty, carby bread and potatoes isn’t a meal with a lot of contrast. What this plate is screaming out for is sugar and acid. Enter cranberry sauce. But cranberry sauce on its own can be a little one-note, especially the canned stuff that leans more sweet than tart.
Rosemary’s Secret Magic
Woody, earthy rosemary is already a cornerstone of Thanksgiving cooking—it goes with turkey like peanut butter goes with jelly. But rosemary isn’t just for stuffing and turkey; it’s the perfect complement to cranberry’s sweet tartness. That one sprig of rosemary is probably what saved my job that night. The classic canned cranberry sauce needs a little more complexity, and the herbal, slightly medicinal notes of rosemary add another layer of flavor that makes for an interesting bite; and, luckily for me, covers up a bit of the canned flavor too. Plus, rosemary is likely already in other dishes on the table, so the flavors are mirrored and make the plate taste cohesive without being bland or unbalanced.
Ready to Rock Rosemary in Your (Canned) Cranberry Sauce This Thanksgiving?
To pull off this tweak at home, follow this simple ratio: one can of whole berry cranberry sauce to two large sprigs of rosemary. Simply heat the canned cranberries and the rosemary in a saucepan on medium-low for five to seven minutes, until the sauce is warmed through and slightly bubbly but hasn’t started to reduce. Carefully remove the rosemary sprigs before serving; it’s okay if a few needles fall off into the sauce. Serve in a bowl with a spoon and wait for the compliments to pour in for your “homemade” cranberry sauce.
Once you’ve tried this simple upgrade of rosemary to canned cranberries, you’ll wonder how you ever had Thanksgiving dinner without it.
