Newsday's Scott Vogel creates an entire Thanksgiving meal with fast food items, including Popeye's cajun-style turkey.  Credit: Yvonne Albinowski; Newsday archive

Thanksgiving has always possessed a capacity for danger, a fact known even to the so-called Mother of Thanksgiving, Sarah Josepha Hale, who was fighting to have it declared a national holiday decades before President Lincoln ultimately issued his 1863 proclamation. Rallying Americans around the idea of a gratitude dinner was important, but so was asking them to “put aside sectional feelings and local incident,” she wrote, seemingly aware of how easily her Thanksgiving table might become a table for giving anything but — namely icy stares, backhanded compliments, side-eye to misbehaving kids, too much wine to Uncle Emilio and the false impression that we adore people we see just once a year.

Can the holiday’s susceptibility to hijacking be pinned entirely on the stress-heavy, exhausting Thanksgiving dinner itself, in which people we almost never see are asked to eat dishes we almost never cook on plates we almost never use? No, but the exercise does little to encourage a mindset of gratitude for anything besides the fact that Thanksgiving comes just once a year.

In hopes of reclaiming the holiday, therefore, we offer you a Thanksgiving menu culled from the country’s mightiest fast food chains, restaurants whose contributions to your holiday table won’t require more than a few minutes in the kitchen, and who won’t make you dress up or even look presentable to eat. To be clear, this will not be the most delicious Thanksgiving meal you’ve ever served, and it may not be the cheapest either. But it will be an incredibly easy one, perfect for times like the wearying present, when almost everything else seems hard. And with all the energy you save, you’ll both be able to give thanks and cope with what everyone else gives you!

Popeye's turkey

Are you the sort who, after a tough day, likes to process the day’s trauma in a healthy way, and then, when that doesn’t work, opts instead for the drive-thru convenience of a Popeye’s two-piece, aka Shame and Regret with a biscuit? The chicken chain has been selling frozen, whole-roasted birds for over 20 years. The cajun-ish turkeys, which feed 8 to 12, have risen in popularity over time, especially among home cooks with a firm grasp of “thaw, heat, serve and enjoy” and other complicated cooking techniques. To the shock of us, meanwhile, it's actually … not bad.

True, the turkey’s “signature blend of Louisiana seasoning” will have you wondering if Baton Rouge’s spice racks have been looted of everything but salt, and the bird emerges from the oven looking mottled, desiccated and only a few bars of sad music away from its own ASPCA commercial. But the meat is well-cooked, juicy from breast to drumstick, and tender in a fall-off-the-bone-whether-you-like-it-or-not way. Indeed, such is the bird’s fragility, the odds of successfully transferring it from rack to plate are roughly equal to winning a stuffed animal from an arcade game’s claw machine.

A Thanksgiving turkey from Popeye's.

A Thanksgiving turkey from Popeye's. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

White Castle burger stuffing

If the prospect of serving White Castle dressing to Thanksgiving guests feels weird to you, just imagine how your turkey must feel. There’s something oddly satisfying about tearing a dozen little burgers to shreds — don’t knock it till you’ve tried it — and that’s just step one of the fun (officially-sanctioned, see the recipe on the company’s website). Sage, thyme and chicken broth add flavor, while diced celery offers both crunch and an homage to unprocessed Thanksgivings past. Yes, the purists at your table will shrink from the sight, but beef-eating fans of novelty stuffing may well approve, and card-carrying members of Craver Nation will scrape the cavity clean.

Make Thanksgiving stuffing with White Castle burgers.

Make Thanksgiving stuffing with White Castle burgers. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

KFC's mashed potatoes

KFC is known the world over for its fried chicken, but less so for its pioneering efforts in virtual reality, of which the Colonel’s mashed potatoes and gravy are both stellar examples. His was far from the first kitchen to coax an edible simulacrum out of dehydrated potato flakes and a pot of hot water, but KFC’s tubs are filled with a creamy pearlescence all their own, and blessed with a texture that’s light yet sculptable. While the potatoes taste as pale as they look, especially without a gravy trip to tawny town, that just means they’ll pair with anything.

Mashed potatoes from KFC.

Mashed potatoes from KFC. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

Wendy's apple pecan salad

Wendy’s sells these salad kits for which some assembly is required. To the lettuce, blue cheese crumbles and sugary dried cranberries, you will need to add a packet of sugary pomegranate vinaigrette, along with a packet of sugary roasted nuts. (Still not sweet enough for you? Remove the chicken chunks, which will only upstage your turkey anyway.)

Apple cranberry chicken salad from Wendy's.

Apple cranberry chicken salad from Wendy's. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

Panera Bread soup

The best thing about its soups may be the ingenious little cardboard inserts the company uses to keep to-go bowls from sloshing their way through Panera Bread’s paper bags, but the soup itself runs a close second, especially the seasonal butternut squash. A velouté attractively topped with roasted pumpkin seeds, it doubles as an outreach effort to vegetarians (or anyone who suddenly becomes one after seeing your bird-burger mashup), as opposed to the dinner rolls, which would be fine too if they hadn’t started life as ham, egg and cheese Croissan’wiches at Burger King. Yes, you could settle for those hockey pucks at the chicken chains, but hey, Thanksgiving is a special day, and besides, the prep couldn’t be easier — just discard ham, egg, cheese and serve!

Autumn squash soup from Panera Bread.

Autumn squash soup from Panera Bread. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

McDonald’s pies

No turkey day dinner is complete without an apple and/or pumpkin pie ending, and McDonald’s, eager to satisfy anyone for whom pie means a single-serving box that incidentally makes a fine eyeglass case, is currently offering both. The wrinkle here is its pumpkin and cream pie, which segregates the two double-barrel-style. The latter substance, which McD’s calls “creme” and its own nutritional facts call “vanilla spread,” is probably best described as “could caulk your tub in a pinch.” The apple, meanwhile, arrives dry, crumbly and a bit forlorn of face, as if wishing that someone would deep-fry it like in the good old days.

McDonald's pies.

McDonald's pies. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

Arby's jalapeno poppers

A final tip on managing expectations: If dinner’s not done but guests are already clambering to eat, then 1) it’s a cinch they don’t know what’s coming, and 2) feel free to offer them a cocktail and hors d'oeuvre, but remember to stay on message. Here’s how. First, give Taco Bell’s Dragon Paradise Sparkling Iced Tea the Long Island treatment, dosing it with an ounce of Bacardi Dragonberry. The refreshing result goes great with other not-real berries, including Bronco Berry dipping sauce, that rare condiment capable of outshining its dippers, by which we mean the jalapeño poppers at Arby’s. Serving a plate of those with drinks is a great way of keeping guests occupied. After all, everyone loves watching the Broncos take on the Dragons, a long-standing rivalry that will provide your guests’ stomachs with hours of amusement.

Jalapeno poppers from Arby's.

Jalapeno poppers from Arby's. Credit: Yvonne Albinowski

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