I always look forward to Thanksgivings. We have so few holidays that aren't either sectarian or patriotic, that are primitive celebrations of the rhythmic cycles of life. The big fall blowout following a bountiful harvest is a human tradition dating back into prehistory. And since, so far as I'm concerned, any year that I live through contains a bountiful harvest by definition, I've always got cause to eat heartily.

I like the ritualistic, ceremonial nature of the foods involved, but my problem with Thanksgiving food is that everything's so bland -- creamed or whipped or pureed or jellied or candied. It's all delicious in its own way, but none of it bites. There's simply NOT ENOUGH SPICE IN THANKSGIVING! Now, there's an historical explanation for that. You have to remember that though the Pilgrims were partying over their survival in America, they were doing it with English tastebuds. And the English may well be the only civilized people ever to attain decadence without a notable culinary component to their culture.

The basic Thanksgiving ingredients -- birds and native vegetables -- are fine with me; but, not being British myself, I feel no obligation to that mild style of home cooking, preferring to put a little snap into the menu. Among their other virtues, such dishes diddle the tongue and seem to speed the digestion, leaving you with the inspiration and the energy to while away the postprandial hours exploring something more provocative than the nap.

I've experimented with the Thanksgiving formula for some time. Here's the menu I finally came up with and have prepared in recent years, to the delight of my friends:

SPINACH AND ONION SALAD WITH NORTH AFRICAN DRESSING

Skin one large ripe tomato by scalding it (dip it, for just a few seconds, into boiling water; the skin will slip right off). Remove the top or stem and cut it into chunks. Remove the yellow outer peel of a lemon. Put this peel into a blender with 2 T. of the lemon's juice and the tomato chunks. Add 1 clove garlic; 1/2 tsp. salt; 1/2 tsp. brown sugar; 1/4 tsp. each of ground coriander, ground cumin, dry mustard, paprika; 1/4 cup olive oil; 1/8 tsp. red pepper or tabasco sauce (or a few dashes of cayenne pepper). Blend until smooth.

This dressing ripens well, so make it a few days in advance and refrigerate it. Otherwise, if you're preparing it close to mealtime, try to let it stand at least 3O minutes. Just before serving, pour it over a salad of spinach leaves and sliced Bermuda (or, if they're in season, the sweet Vidalia) onions, and toss. (For an alternative, use it to dress a salad of romaine lettuce, endive, and fresh shrimp.)

RED-HOT BUFFALO WINGS

I was introduced to this dish -- on which rests the culinary fame of Buffalo, New York –- in the mid-1970s by Father Leslie Krims, a faith healer from that curious city. At that time, you could walk into dozens of restaurants in Buffalo and order these, but you couldn't do that anywhere else in the world. Nowadays, of course, you can find them everywhere.

I take great pride in the fact that I introduced this delicacy to the metropolitan New York area in the late fall of 1978 – right here on Staten Island. This occurred in the pages of the North Shore Press, a long-defunct biweekly based in Stapleton. It took Craig Claiborne of the New York Times almost three years to catch up with me on this one. (I will cheerfully verify this scoop with a photocopy upon request.) So here, on the 19th anniversary of its New York City debut, is the original first-Buffalo-wings-to-reach-New-York-City recipe:

Allow 4-6 chicken wings per person. Section the wings and shake the parts in a plastic bag with seasoned flour until coated. (Seasoned flour: combine 1/2 cup all-purpose flour, 1 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. pepper. Use a finely ground hot pepper, such as West African, if you have it.) Spread out on a cookie sheet lined with aluminum foil and bake in an oven pre-heated to 350 degrees until done -- about one hour. Some people discard the tips. I like to gnaw on them, so I cook them too, on a separate platter, for a little less time, since they’re so thin.

While they're cooking, prepare the following:

1) Celery sticks -- a good-sized handful (say, six stalks, each cut in half) per person.

2) Hot sauce -- mix this to taste, depending on your tolerance, but make it strong. A good base to start with is: 1/4 cup cider vinegar, 2 tsp. Frank's Louisiana Red Hot Sauce (now distributed by Durkee's) or salsa picante, 1 T. melted butter (margarine, or even corn oil, can be substituted). You will need about this much for each serving.

3) Bleu cheese dressing: combine 4 oz. crumbled bleu cheese, 1/4 cup salad oil, 1/2 cup mayonnaise, 1/2 cup yogurt (or substitute 1 cup sour cream for the yogurt and mayo), 4 T. vinegar, 1-2 pressed garlic cloves, a sprinkle of chives, and a dash or two of black pepper.

When the wings are done, remove from the oven and douse them immediately with the hot sauce. (You can spoon it over them, or squirt it on with a baster.) Arrange each portion on a platter or dish with a batch of celery sticks and a small bowl of bleu cheese dressing. Serve immediately. (This dish is eaten with the hands, by dipping both the celery sticks and the chicken into the bleu cheese dressing.)

CRANBERRY-ORANGE RELISH

The exclusion of turkey from this menu requires the placatory offering of a ritual condiment. Fortunately, this proves easy to do -- and, while this relish doesn't exactly go with anything in particular, it functions as a refreshing palate cleanser, not unlike a chutney or a sorbet. Serve it as a side dish.

Take one 12-oz package of fresh cranberries, 1 medium orange, and 3/4 of a cup of sugar. Cut the orange into eighths, removing all seeds. Place oranges -- peels and all -- and cranberries into a food processor (I suggest doing this in two batches); blend until evenly chopped. Add sugar to desired sweetness. Store in refrigerator or freezer. It improves with age, so make it a day in advance.

COCONUT SWEET POTATOES

Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn about candied sweet potatoes. This unusual alternative originated in Jamaica (you know, over in Queens). Allow 1/2 potato per serving.

Bake 2-3 sweet potatoes (stick them into the oven when you put the wings in, or nuke ‘em in the microwave). When they’ve softened, cut in half lengthwise and scoop out the pulp. (Be careful not to tear the skins -- you'll need them in a few minutes.) In a bowl, mash the pulp with 2 oz. butter or margarine and a hefty slosh of beer -- anywhere from 3-6 tablespoons full. Mix in two tablespoons of shredded coconut, and salt to taste.

Now pile this stuff back into the shells. Sprinkle with powdered cinnamon and freshly grated nutmeg, and just a smidgen of cayenne pepper. Return to the oven for 15-20 minutes to reheat; remove when top gets slightly crusty.

CHOCOLATE PUDDING CAKE

Mix one cup of brown sugar and 1/4 cup cocoa in bowl, and set aside. Then mix one cup of all-purpose flour, 2 tsp. baking powder, 1/4 tsp. salt, 3/4 cup white granulated sugar, 2 T. cocoa; add to this 1/2 cup milk and 2 T. of melted butter, blending this into a batter.

Pour batter into 9" casserole or deep pie plate. Pour dry mix evenly over batter. Over all of it, slowly and carefully pour 1-3/4 cups boiling water. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes (start it going about 15 minutes after you put in the wings).

Take the cake out, and -- once it has cooled some -- serve up in wedges with coffee ice cream on the side. Later, once things have settled down, top the feast off with coffee and snifters of cognac. I assure you that the spirits of the founding fathers’ forebears will be properly placated. Try it yourselves, regardless of your bloodlines. Gobble, gobble. Yum, yum. Burp. Guaranteed.