By Chef Fernando Stovell
There is something profoundly human about the act of giving thanks. Long before it was called Thanksgiving, people across the world gathered around fire and food to honour the harvest, the earth, and one another.
In this shared ritual — ancient and enduring — lies the essence of gratitude itself: the awareness that we are sustained not only by what we cultivate, but by those with whom we share it.
1. A Universal Spirit
In the United States, Thanksgiving evokes the scent of roasted turkey, the rustle of autumn leaves, and the warmth of a family table heavy with tradition. Yet beyond its borders, the spirit of this day takes on new and unexpected forms.
In Mexico, gratitude is often woven into every shared meal — from humble tortillas to celebratory moles rich with history and spice. In Japan, Kinrō Kansha no Hi (Labour Thanksgiving Day) honours work and community. In Ghana, the Homowo festival rejoices in the triumph over famine.
In Europe, harvest festivals like the British Harvest Home or France's Fête des Vendanges celebrate the same cycle of nourishment and renewal.
The gesture of giving thanks is not bound by geography — it is bound by consciousness. It is the pause between abundance and remembrance, between receiving and acknowledging. It is that moment when we realise that the simplest act — the breaking of bread — carries centuries of meaning.
2. The Language of Food
Food, in this light, becomes our most eloquent language. Every ingredient tells a story: of land, of labour, of lineage.
To cook is to honour all those unseen hands — the farmers, the foragers, the fishermen — who make the meal possible. To eat together is to reaffirm the invisible thread that ties us to each other, and to the world itself.
3. The Flavours of Gratitude
In my own travels and kitchens, I have found that gratitude tastes different in every place. Sometimes it is the sweetness of roasted maize in Oaxaca, sometimes the quiet perfume of chestnuts and sage in the English countryside.
On such occasions, I often prepare a dish that feels deeply rooted in my British heritage — Roast Goose with Cider-Braised Apples and Chestnut Stuffing — a meal that speaks of warmth, family, and the generosity of the season.
The golden skin, crisp and aromatic, gives way to tender meat infused with herbs and fruit — a reminder that every feast is both an ending and a beginning, a celebration of what the earth has given and what we choose to share.
Perhaps that is what Thanksgiving, at its heart, asks of us: not merely to celebrate what we have, but to recognise what sustains us — the relationships, the memories, the moments of generosity and grace that define our humanity.
4. Between Two Worlds
As an Anglo-Mexican chef, I find myself straddling two worlds — one steeped in centuries-old English tradition, and another vibrant with the colours and soul of Mexico.
Each year, I set my table with both: roasted goose beside mole negro, Yorkshire pudding beside pan de elote. It is not a fusion of cuisines, but a dialogue between cultures — a living expression of gratitude for all that has shaped me.
So wherever you find yourself this season — whether carving turkey in London, sharing tamales in Mexico City, or raising a glass somewhere far away — take a moment to savour the silence before the first bite. In that breath lies the truest meaning of the feast: gratitude, in its purest form.
Wishing you and your families a joyous and memorable Thanksgiving.