Thanksgiving Bellini

                  Bellini-shakes with a beautiful Potato Dauphin

American Thanksgiving in London is very much a do-it-yourself, home-made, ‘let’s pull it together, and celebrate anyway!’ kind of effort, squeezed in this year between a Christmas street fair, and lots of math homework.

While everyone else is already thinking Christmas (don’t even mention Hanukkah, Jews don’t exist in England as far as the shops are concerned), we Americans here in London are thinking Turkey! Stuffing! Apple Pie! And, of course Bellinis!

We were lucky enough to receive a Thanksgiving dinner invitation from some lovely American friends, Fiona and Bill. As my husband and I were walking through Soho that afternoon, commiserating that our bank account was too low, and feeling slightly sorry for ourselves- it is what sending you children to private schools in central London does to otherwise normal, middle-class people- we passed an amazing liquor store that seemed to shout, ‘Come hither! We will make all your troubles go away…’

‘Go on,’ my husband, who never misses a Bellini-esque moment, urged. I obeyed, went in, and saw immediately that they seemed to stock every possible, outlandish type of alcohol. All the visible bottles in shelves high and low, slanted and skewed had big white signs on them, with the name of each bottle hand-printed in large letters with thick, child-like markers.  The men behind the counter sported tattoos and looked as though they were guarding an armory of weapons, rather than a varied collection of alcoholic beverages. But they were ever so helpful, and quick to guess the cryptic descriptions of what other people sought. Though it did feel a little like walking into a saloon in the Wild West, they sent me away happily, with a professional brand of White Peach Puree.

Why didn’t I buy the Prosecco they sold, you ask? I’m not sure, I think it just looked like an after-thought, perched in a box near the floor, with no discerning title. It looked ordinary, compared to all the other glorious bottles on the shelves, and I couldn’t bring myself to buy it there.

Fiona and Bill pulled out all the stops, and our Thanksgiving table was one big, festive riot of color, texture and fantastic food. They were also delighted to try our mix of homemade Bellinis- they didn’t know the drink, and it would be their first ever. The pressure was on.

I tried to follow the very explicit instructions on the back of the package, and mix 30ml of peach puree with 60ml of Prosecco. I must confess the metric system and I have our differences, but this did not deter me. I figured it just meant double Prosecco to peach puree. I tried that at first, but in fact the puree was really too thick, more the consistency of our delicious, sweet potato puree. I tried again, and almost got it right. We sipped our heavy Bellinis, which were more like Prosecco-shakes, and toasted another cold, and rainy Thanksgiving in London. They weren’t too bad, and through the dense liquid, they had a nice, fresh peach flavor. Amazing what packaging can do these days.

But I did feel like I’d let Fiona and Bill down, and will endeavor to make them another Bellini. Better and lighter, merrily imbibed, the way they should be.