Everyone holds dear the act of waxing philosophically about Thanksgiving. It's a day to count our blessings, set aside differences, and take a break from the election chatter. But what often gets overlooked is the food – the other star of this holiday. Food holds a magical power, with stories behind the hours spent in the kitchen and traditions that explain why we serve certain dishes. Our opinions team shares some of their favorite food traditions in the hopes of inspiring you to think deeper about the role food plays in bringing our families – and even a divided nation – together. Maybe it'll even give you some new recipe ideas for next year.

Discover the Hidden Stories behind Thanksgiving Food

The Sound that Reminds Me of My Dad

Growing up, my father always insisted on having a can of cranberry sauce for the holiday – the plain, jellied variety. It was simple, just like him, with no fancy berries or orange zest. I too loved it, but the rest of the family couldn't stand it. After moving to Arizona and starting to cook my own holiday meals, I bought a can of cranberry sauce to honor my late father. The first year, when my now-husband (who doesn't like cranberry sauce) and I opened it, we were greeted with a hilarious SCHLORRRP sound as the cranberry sauce emerged from the can. It was a giant, gelatinous red cylinder that maintained its wiggly shape even after leaving the can. We couldn't help but laugh and laugh. And the following year, we even videoed the cranberry sauce making that noise again. This has become our tradition – videoing the cranberry sauce coming out of the can in one giant blob and laughing together. It's a way to remember my dad.

Another aspect of this tradition is the sense of connection it brings. Sharing these moments with my husband, who initially didn't share my love for cranberry sauce, has created a unique bond. It's a small thing that holds a big place in our hearts.

Let Me Change Your View of Cranberries

Joanna's story about the cranberry sauce tradition is great. When I was a child, my mom made cranberry relish. Many readers might be familiar with it, but I'm always surprised by how many people have never tried it. If you're one of those deprived souls, I'm about to change your perception of cranberries, cranberry sauce, and Thanksgiving.

My mom doesn't remember where she got the recipe, but I suspect it was from Family Circle, her magazine of choice in the 1960s. The recipe couldn't be simpler: get a 12-ounce bag of cranberries, two oranges (with peel), and one cup of sugar. (My mom still uses 2 cups of sugar.) Rinse the cranberries and oranges, slice the oranges, and then run them and the cranberries through a meat grinder into a bowl. Mix in the sugar, stir, and cover. Refrigerate and serve in a small bowl with a spoon. Put a couple dabs on your plate next to the turkey or dressing. It really enhances the flavor of the white meat.

No Table is Complete without Gnocchi

As a child, our Thanksgiving table was filled with tradition. There was turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, green bean casserole, fresh-made dinner rolls, and gnocchi. "There's got to be a little Italian," my mother would say. "Like us." I got to squeeze the boiled potatoes through a hand-held ricer onto a large cutting board. The potatoes were formed into a bowl, and my mother would drop a single egg into it. Flour was added, and the mixture was gently molded into a dough. After it rested, I'd roll a portion into a "snake" and cut it into tiny "pillows." Sometimes, my mother would hum and sing a little refrain she said her mother used to sing with her: "Ridi, ridi che la mamma ha fatto i gnocchi." "Laugh, laugh, because momma made gnocchi." And that's what we did – laugh and laugh. Remembering these moments still brings a smile to my face.

Gnocchi adds a special touch to our Thanksgiving table. It's a reminder of our Italian heritage and the love that goes into making these little dumplings. It's a tradition that we hold dear and pass on to future generations.

Stuffing is the Real Star of the Show

Let's talk turkey about the real star of the show – the stuffing. Usually, I'd wax on about Mom's old recipe, but truth be told, my mother wasn't a great cook. More than once, she used the smoke alarm as a kitchen timer!

In our house, we make stuffing in a Southwestern style. It's a recipe my husband has put together over the years through trial and error. A lot of error in the beginning. We make cornbread from scratch a day ahead, mash it up, and mix it with fresh Anaheim, poblano, and jalapeno chilies. Add in some corn, green onions, fresh cilantro, and the usual butter, eggs, sugar, and spices. And we make sure to double the recipe because leftovers are a must. We don't stuff the stuffing inside the turkey because that's just gross. Instead, we fill the bird with orange slices and put the stuffing in casserole dishes. Whatever you call it, it's the best thing on the table – until the pie is served!

My Family Cooked. I Buy Pies from the Store

Thanksgiving dinner traditions? Oh, we did them all. There was turkey, cornbread stuffing, regular stuffing, macaroni and cheese (and believe me, Patti LaBelle's recipe has nothing on what my mother and grandmothers could whip up), cranberry sauce (out of the can, Joanna), cranberry relish (like Phil remembers), mashed potatoes, green beans (my sisters and cousins would spend all morning snapping the ends off), green bean casserole, collard greens (and let's not get into the bathtub washing story – that's just gross), mustard greens, kale, candied yams, homemade rolls. And there was always enough gravy for everyone to have their own boat with a straw in it.

Those memories feel like yesterday and a million years ago. Now, as a single dad in Phoenix with no family except my four kids, my goal is to make the best replica of the meals I remember and tell my little crew stories about family members they'll only see once or twice a year, if we're lucky. This will be my third year making Thanksgiving dinner, texting my sisters for recipes and Facetiming my mom for help with the details. I've done a pretty good job so far.

But there's one tradition that my kids will always remember: Dad buys the pies from the grocery store. It's a small change, but it's a part of our new Thanksgiving tradition.

I Eat Whatever the Rest of My Family Brings

I'm the pilgrim in the Thanksgiving culinary world, sifting through what others prepare. This has nothing to do with the fact that Thanksgiving wasn't part of my childhood. It's just that I've earned a medal as the family's worst cook. In my last attempt, we ended up with inedible turkey, but we still laughed as we savored the side dishes made by others.

Hanging out, laughing, and sharing whatever is on the table is our family's tradition. It's not about a specific recipe; it's about enjoying each other's company. In my case, it's letting others take over the kitchen. And what a blessing that is!