Since immigration is on everyone’s minds these days, it’s worth remembering that Thanksgiving itself is, at its heart, an immigrant feast — and the wines we pour tell that story just as vividly as the food on the table.
Picture this: Maria is layering her grandmother’s chorizo stuffing into the turkey while her neighbor Klaus preps his family’s sauerkraut dressing. Down the street, the Johnsons roast corn, beans, and squash — the “three sisters” of Native tradition — just as their Cherokee great-grandmother taught them. A few blocks over, the Rossis are simmering marinara for their Thanksgiving lasagna, while the Wilsons polish off their grandmother’s apple pie recipe — an English classic brought to the New World centuries ago.
And in another kitchen, the Dubois family is plating mushroom and goat cheese toasts for hors d’oeuvres, a rustic nod to their French heritage, while a pan of fingerling potatoes sizzles in duck fat for the turkey. Each kitchen tells a different story, but together they create the patchwork celebration of gratitude that defines the American table.
The beauty of this patchwork becomes even more apparent when you consider what’s in the glass. Every wine has a story, every bottle a journey. Pairing those Indigenous staples — corn, beans, and squash, known as the “three sisters”—with Norton, America’s oldest native grape, creates a full-circle moment: its jammy richness complements roasted squash, while its earthy undertones echo corn’s sweetness and beans’ heartiness.
And you don’t have to look far to find it: Stonewall Creek Vineyard in Tiger, Georgia – just down the road from Highlands – produces a Norton under its Standing Deer label, a bold, dark-fruited wine that captures the spirit of this uniquely American grape.
Klaus’s sauerkraut stuffing tells a German story, one best answered by a crisp Riesling from the Rhine. A bottle like Dr. Loosen Blue Slate Kabinett offers bright acidity and a mineral snap that dances alongside tangy cabbage. Maria’s smoky chorizo stuffing? That cries out for bold Spanish Tempranillo, like La Rioja Alta Viña Alberdi Reserva, whose cherry, tobacco, and leather notes can stand up to all that spice and savor.
For the pasta-loving Rossis and other Italian-American families who slip lasagna or manicotti into their Thanksgiving buffet, an Italian Sangiovese is the perfect bridge. Try Avignonesi Rosso di Montepulciano or Felsina Chianti Classico: both offer cherry brightness that harmonizes with tomato sauce and cranberry alike.
And what about the Dubois mushroom and goat cheese toasts—or their duck-fat fingerling potatoes? Thanksgiving wouldn’t be complete without a French Gamay. Beaujolais – especially a Cru like Morgon or Fleurie – is the holiday MVP: light enough for turkey, fresh enough for ham, and earthy enough for mushroom dishes. For value and pedigree in one bottle, reach for Château Thivin Côte de Brouilly – a benchmark producer whose wines deliver both bright fruit and savory depth.
Finally, back to the Wilsons’ English apple pie. After a day filled with so much abundance and dazzling flavors, sparkling wine feels like the perfect finish – refreshing, joyful, alive. A glass of Nyetimber Classic Cuvée or Gusbourne Brut Reserve makes the apple pie sing, while lightening the table for one last shared moment. Because in the end, Thanksgiving is less about the feast itself than the chance to gather, raise a glass, and be grateful that our wines – like our families – come from everywhere.
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