|
Jim Dixon |
|
I grew up eating the same meal every Thanksgiving. Turkey, natch, with a simple bread stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, creamed pearl onions spiked with sharp cheddar, and the ubiquitous green bean casserole. You know, the one with cream of mushroom soup and Durkhee brand canned French-fried onion rings on top.
|
||
|
My mother and grandmother would spend all day in the kitchen. My job was making fresh cranberry-orange relish with a meat grinder back in those in pre-Cuisinart days. Aunt Margaret sipped a vodka cocktail and came in only to make the gravy, which she did using nothing fancier than a spoon to scrape the bottom of the roasting pan and mix in the flour. Call me sentimental, but I still cook the same meal every year. (We used to eat it at Christmas, too, but my wife put her foot down. She said once a year was enough for the "white meal," and I have to agree.) If you're cooking a turkey with all the trimmings and need a little advice on the details, stay with me here. Stuffing (a.k.a. Dressing)
|
|||
|
|
The Bird
When its in the oven, drop a stick of butter and pour a bottle of beer into the roaster. I prefer a locally-brewed nut brown ale (usually Full Sail from Hood River), which I can also drink while I'm cooking. This butter-and-beer mix makes a great basting liquid. It also results in really good gravy. Save at least one more bottle to add halfway through cooking the turkey. Baste every 20 minutes or so, and when you add the second bottle of beer, baste it really weell and then cover the bird with foil. This stops the browning on top and helps keep in the juices. To determine if the bird is done, I use an instant-read thermometer (about $8 at a good kitchen store). Stick it into the breast down low, being careful not to jam it against any bones which will throw off the reading. It should read 180 degrees, and if it does I double-check by slicing down between the thigh and body. If the juices look pink or bloody, send it back for another half-hour and check again. Also poke the thermometer into the stuffing; it should also be at 180. When it's done, set the turkey on a platter to rest for about 20-30 minutes while you make the gravy.
Gravy
1. Separate the fat, and flour to it to make a roux, then add back to pan juices. 2. Aunt Margaret's gravy. After going back and forth with mixed results both ways, I've settled on Aunt Margaret's technique for (usually) fool-proof gravy. Here's how it goes: Set the roasting pan on the stove and turn the burner (or burners, if the pan spans two) on medium high. While the juices are heating, use a big metal spoon to scrape all of the dark, cooked-on goodies from the bottom and edges of the pan. Separately, mix cold water (and it must be cold water or you get lumps) slowly into a cup or so of flour (I like to make a lot of gravy, like a couple of quarts) until it becomes a smooth, not-too-viscous paste. You want this sort of runny. Slowly pour the flour and water into the roasting pan, stirring constantly. When everything is well mixed, you can add the extenders and enhancers. You could've cooked the turkey giblets and neck in water for a few hours to make stock; if you did, add it (the stock, not the giblets, unless you're into that sort of thing). Or you can add chicken stock, either home-made or canned. I usually make a few cups of turkey stock and pour in one of the big cans of Swanson's chicken broth. I'll also add water if I don't think the volume is adequate. You also need some Kitchen Bouquet, which is basically a nearly flavorless caramelized sugar solution. It adds color, though, and a darker gravy is better than a pale one. Finally, and especially if there are any fat slicks on the surface, add a cup or two of milk or cream. Let simmer until you're ready to eat. Mashed potatoes
When they pierce easily with a fork, they're done. Remove from heat and drain (use a towel to hold the lid slightly askew on the pot, then pour into sink using the lid to keep spuds in). Add a good chunk of butter (5 pounds of potatoes: 1 cube of butter), buttermilk, and mash. I like mine a bit chunky and use a plain wire masher (cheap at any supermarket). Some people "rice" their spuds, which requires a "ricer," natch. Others use a mixer. Don't, under any circumstances, put them into a food processor. When my mother first got her Cuisinart, everything went in. Against my protests, so do the spuds, and we ate a sort of potato-y wall paper paste that year. So just keep mashing and adding a bit of buttermilk (okay, you can use any milk, but buttermilk adds a nice flavor and creamy texture) until they look good. Cover and set in a warm place. Dinner is not far off.
| |
|
Creamed Onions & Green Bean Casserole
For the onions, buy 2-3 cans of Diamond brand small pearl onions. If you can't find them, improvise. One year I was feeling self-righteous and used fresh pearl onions. It took me hours to peel the damn things. My mother once opted for a bag of frozen pearl onions. They just weren't the same. The canned ones are easy, and we're not trying to impress anybody, right? Make a simple white sauce. This means melting some butter over medium heat, adding a like quantity of flour and cooking that for a few minutes. Then slowly add milk (we only drink skim and it works fine). If you used a quarter cup each of butter and flour, use about a cup of milk. If this is too casual, consult any cookbook for a more precise recipe. As the sauce comes to a boil and thickens, add some grated or crumbled cheese. It can be almost anything, but in recent years I've found that an extra sharp cheddar (I like Bandon full cream cheddar) mixed with anything blue-veined (sweet gorgonzola is very nice) tastes best. A shot of bourbon or brandy is also good here (in the sauce, that is). Open the cans, drain the water off of the onions, and pour them into a shallow baking dish. Pour the sauce over, and top with buttered bread crumbs (have you noticed this recurring butter theme?). To make the crumbs, process some stale bread (a coarse Italian loaf works well) or put it in a bag and pound it with something heavy. Melt that butter in a large pan, add the crumbs, and stir. If you haven't been saving your stale bread, slice some fresh and lay it in the oven for a while to dry out. Bake the onions at 350 until browned on top. I once was invited to a Passover seder with the restaurant reviewer of the local weekly that I now write for. The host knew I liked to cook and asked me to make green bean casserole, which he said was a staple among the east coast Jewish community where he grew up. Considering the other guest, I bought fresh green beans and made a mushroom-sherry sauce. I had to stick with the Durkhee onion rings, but I figured that was okay. Everybody was very disappointed. They wanted the canned beans mixed with mushroom soup. So throw a few cans of French cut green beans and one or two of Campbell's (why skimp?) cream of mushroom soup into a bowl. Mix 'em up and pour into another shallow baking dish. Top with Durkhee brand (I've never seen any other) canned french-fried onion rings and bake until done. Finally, you need the cranberries. For this, you do need a food processor (or a meat grinder). |
|||
|
|
Cranberry-orange Relish Cut a good-sized orange into quarters, picking out any seeds. Leave the peel on. Process until finely chopped. Add a bag of fresh cranberries. Process more. Add a cup (or less) of sugar. Process. Taste. Adjust the sugar to your liking. This is best if sits for a few hours or overnight. My mom still makes the pumpkin pie, so you're on your own for dessert. | |
|
|
|||
Back to Fillet
|