Cranberries. (Zom-bie, Zom-bie, Zom-bie-e-e)

What giant fowl feast is complete without cranberry sauce? Now you could go to your local outlet of some giant, multinational food conglomerate and buy a tin of that red glop that comes out of the can with a sickening schlurshlop and then just quivers in your serving dish still in its antiseptic, cylindrical mass. And in late night, turkey sandwich-induced, emergency situations, I have done just that. However, we are not going to advance the DIY slow food revolution and uphold our punk rock, more-gourmet-than-thou, smirking attitude if we stoop to that. We are going to make our own.
Freshly made cranberry sauce is the volume knob that goes to 11 on the vintage tube amp that is your beautiful turducken. And just like power chord rock and roll, it's beauty is in it's simplicity. You will need...

• 1 bag of fresh cranberries
• 1 thumb of fresh ginger, grated
  
• 1-2 oranges, zest and juice
• 1/2 - 1 cup of sugar
• a few splashes of some fancy booze that you have laying around. (I used leftover Champagne from making Mimosas for Christmas morning. Any sort of wine will work, sake would be very interesting, vodka would do in a pinch, gin... I'm not so sure of. Just feel free to improvise.)

Dump everything in a sauce pan on low heat. Start with less sugar rather than more. As you constantly stir, the cranberries will pop and release their juicy goodness. Continue and the sauce will thicken. Adjust sugar, orange, and booze according to your liking and you are done.