While studying abroad in France, I decided to take a cooking course. Our instructor was a jovial, middle-aged Frenchman with a scruffy beard. In November he asked us, his Américains, if we’d like to prepare a traditional Thanksgiving feast. After a resounding “oui,” we used our crappy French to communicate that we needed turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy and, and…. Nobody knew the word for cranberries. It wasn’t even in our dictionaries. “Canneberges,” I blurted and the chef’s expression went from “Aha!” to “Sorry, but no way.” They weren’t available in France. He snuck off for another nip of rosé while we contemplated a Thanksgiving without cranberries. This drink that I’ve dubbed Cranberry “Sauce” reminds me of glistening Thanksgiving cranberries. Pour one shot of vodka and one shot of cranberry liqueur (like De Kuyper) over ice. Top with cranberry juice and a squeeze of lime. Garnish with dried cranberry.