Thanksgivingier
Turkey, Mashed Potatoes, and All the Fixings.
Like many Americans, I have a lot of good memories of the Thanksgiving holiday: The family gatherings of my childhood, all of us gathered around my Grandmother’s table in suburban Cleveland; College years, returning the Wednesday evening before the big day with a bag of laundry and heading straight to the bars to catch up with friends – Thursday’s dinner almost an afterthought; A big family meal and a walk through Golden Gate Park to stare out at the Pacific. Another year, my brother and sister, me, and our partners sharing a card-table feast in a tiny apartment in the Mission district during the brief period all three of us improbably lived in San Francisco at the same time – playing quarters afterward with a few hastily acquired bottles of Domaine Chandon – because we were working really hard at being classytrashy.
I loved those holidays and I’m lucky to have close family that – for the most part – gets along well, but my favorite Thanksgiving memories are of those meals we shared with friends during my time in Washington, DC.
For a lot of my friends in DC, November wasn’t just the beginning of the holiday season, it was the end – or the extension – of a long season of campaigning. Sometimes races weren’t called, there were recounts to worry about, transitions to organize, inaugurations to plan. For some going home wasn’t an option. For others, sometimes, there wasn’t really anywhere to go home to. We started hosting thanksgiving, opening it up to any of our friends who wanted to join. Sometimes those were intimate affairs – just a few of us kvetching and enjoying good wine and better company. Other times, we had to figure out how to fit additional chairs into our extremely tiny Capitol Hill townhouse.
Those meals simply cemented what I love about the Thanksgiving Holiday. Troublesome origins aside, it’s a time when people gather, thankful for their friends and neighbors, and take time to be together. That’s it. That’s enough.
This week’s meal is a complete Thanksgiving dinner – a couple of weeks early. Ten dishes from soup to pie and, of course, the Turkey at the center. It’s neither particularly “fancy” nor exactly traditional. These are dishes I’ve cooked over the past years – and recooked last week in the wake of a particularly emotional couple of days. I hope you enjoy it, and if you don’t actually cook any of it, I hope it lends inspiration.
One note: With one exception – and it can be done a day ahead - everything in this menu is tweaked to use the same oven temp. The logistics of swapping dishes in and out of the oven while awaiting family squabbles about football are just a little easier when everything uses the same oven temp.
Butternut Squash Bisque
Butternut squash is something, unfortunately, I’ve gotten a bit tired of these days. It’s on too many menus this time of year: squash ravioli, squash soup, squash cheesecake, squash beer … probably. You can’t avoid it. But it’s a classic for a reason. It’s … well, it’s good. It’s sweet and when cooked well, smooth and luscious in texture. It’s a good canvas for a lot of flavors. In this soup, I try to keep it very simple. The squash is roasted unadorned, then pureed with onions, butter, and one of my favorites – Chinese five spice powder. The five spice is like a more sophisticated “pumpkin spice” or baking spice, and while different blends have different ingredients and proportions, the base is cinnamon, pepper, and star anise – all of which add piquant depth to the caramel sweetness of the roasted squash. Chicken stock and cream finish the soup and make for a luscious bowl that’s a perfect start to a festive meal.
1 medium butternut squash
1 qt chicken stock or vegetable stock
4 tbsp unsalted butter
½ cup cream plus 4 tbsp for garnish
1 clove garlic
1 medium white or yellow onion
1 tsp Chinese five spice powder plus more for garnish
1 tsp kosher salt plus more to taste
½ tsp white pepper
Preheat your oven to 350° F.
Split the squash in half lengthwise and remove the seeds. Place cut side down on a sheet pan lined with a silicon mat.
Roast until the squash is fully cooked and softening, and the skin is beginning to brown.
Remove from the oven and let cool.
Remove and discard the skin.
Cut the squash into 2 inch chunks.
Peel, trim, and coarsely chop 1 medium onion.
Peel, trim, and mince the garlic.
In a large pan over medium heat, melt 4 tbsp of unsalted butter.
Add the chopped onion and sauté until the onion is translucent, about 5 minutes.
Add the garlic and five spice powder and cook for 1 minute.
Add the chicken stock, salt, and peeled squash chunks to the onion and spice mixture.
Bring to a simmer.
Cook for 15 minutes.
Remove from the heat and allow to cool.
Transfer all contents (squash and chicken stock mixture) to the container of a high-speed mixer. Process until very smooth.
All of the preceding steps can be done a day in advance.
To finish, bring the pureed soup to a low simmer.
Stir in ½ cup of heavy cream.
Add white pepper, and taste for seasoning – adding more salt to taste.
To serve, ladle into bowls and drizzle with cream. Sprinkle additional five spice powder on top.
Sweet Potato Kugel
No tiny marshmallows here. Sorry. This isn’t the classic Thanksgiving sweet potato or yam dish. It’s also not really exactly a kugel, but I call it that anyway because it’s sort of the closest thing to it. And like the classic noodle kugel, it sort of straddles the fence between a side and a desert. Here, shredded sweet potatoes slowly soften in a maple-sweetened custard topped with a crunchy streusel topping, an addition that adds some contrast to the otherwise soft textures.
4 large medium orange sweet potatoes
2 eggs
½ cup heavy cream
¼ cup dark maple syrup
1/8 tsp ground or fresh grated cinnamon
1 tsp kosher salt
½ cup AP flour
½ cup light brown sugar
4 tbsp unsalted butter
Pinch of salt
Preheat your oven to 350° F.
Peel the sweet potatoes and grate using the large holes of a box grater or food processor shredding plate. Reserve about 2 inches of sweet potato to make the streusel topping.
Whisk together eggs, maple syrup, cinnamon, and salt.
Mix the sweet potatoes and egg mixture together well.
Shred the reserved piece of sweet potato with a microplane or the smaller holes on a box grater.
In the bowl of a food processor, make the streusel topping. Combine butter, sugar, a pinch of salt and flour until it forms a coarse meal.
Add the finely shredded sweet potato and pulse in the processor until combined.
Grease a small casserole dish and add the sweet potato mixture.
Top with the streusel topping.
Bake at 350° F until the streusel is crunchy and browned and the potato mixture is soft ~45 minutes.
Mashed Potatoes
There are a lot of different variations on mashed potatoes, but for Thanksgiving, simple is my preference. They’re the backbone of the whole meal. The pallet on which we paint every other course. Ok, that’s a little heavy handed. They’re mashed potatoes. Bad ones are still mashed potatoes. Good ones are … well, they’re exceptional.
The difference between good, smooth, rich mashed potatoes and gluey ones is pretty much just technique. Cook the potatoes slowly, break them up well, and coat the starch with fat before adding liquid. Otherwise, the liquid dissolves the starch and makes them gluey. Because these are festive potatoes, we’re using a lot of fat – both butter and cream. It’s Thanksgiving and we’re all worth it.
4 large russet potatoes
6 tbsp unsalted butter
½ cup heavy cream
1 tsp kosher salt
Peel and cut the potatoes into 1 inch cubes.
Add to a thick bottomed pot with enough lightly-salted water to cover completely.
Slowly bring to a low simmer.
Cook at a low simmer until the potatoes are soft all the way through when pricked with a fork or knife tip.
Drain well.
While the potatoes are still very warm, push the potatoes though the mesh of a medium fine strainer or tamis using the back of a spoon or a silicone spatula. Alternately, you can use a potato ricer or a food mill.
Add the butter to the potatoes 1 tbsp at a time, stirring well to completely incorporate.
To serve, warm the heavy cream on the stove or in a microwave and whisk in until your desired texture is achieved.
Taste for seasoning, and add salt as necessary.
Good Gravy
My dad died earlier this year after struggling with Alzheimer’s for the better part of a decade. A couple of years ago, the weekend before he moved into long-term care, he sat at dinner, at his usual spot at the head of the table, trying desperately to explain what he wanted. Dad was having trouble speaking, he forgot a lot of words, and it was struggle for him to let us know what he needed. Before his illness, dad rarely swore, but that night he muttered “this is bullshit” under his breath. He waved at his plate. We asked what he wanted, offered different dishes from those collected on the table, but no. None of that. “This is BULLSHIT.” Finally, one of us, I don’t remember who, passed him the gravy. He smiled, poured it over his plate and went back to quietly and happily eating his dinner.
It’s already become a family legend, and we quickly paraphrased dad’s expression. Now, it’s become a refrain at family gatherings.
Without gravy, it’s all bullshit.
This is a simple gravy, but instead of counting on the drippings, I make a turkey rich stock and a roux. It has all the flavor with none of the variables.
1 lb ground turkey thigh meat
1 turkey neck
2 stalks celery
1 large onion
1 large carrot
1 bay leaf
4 tbsp ap flour
2 tbsp unsalted butter
Make a dark turkey stock:
Preheat your oven to 450° F.
Peel, trim, and slice the onion.
Peel the carrot and quarter it.
Cut the celery stalks into 4 chunks.
Arrange 1 lbs ground turkey thigh meat, the turkey neck, and carrot, onion and celery on a sheet pan.
Roast until the vegetables are dark – even burnt in the case of the onion, and the ground turkey is well browned.
Scrape into a large stock pot with ~3 qts of cold water, adding some additional water to the sheet pan and scraping up browned bits stuck to the pan. Add that to the large pot as well.
Bring the stock pot to a low simmer. Add the bay leaf.
Cook for at least 2 hours and up to 4 hours, trying to maintain a very low simmer.
Allow to cool slightly and strain well though a fine strainer and or a flour sack towel.
Make a medium dark roux by adding 2 tbsp of butter and 2 tbsp of flour to a sauce pan over medium heat. Cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture is fragrant and the color of smooth peanut butter. Add the additional 2 tbsp of flour and stir well to combine.
Slowly add 1 qt of the turkey stock to the sauce pan, whisking to combine with the roux. Bring to a low simmer, whisking occasionally.
Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Reserve remaining turkey stock to make stuffing.
Dry Brined Herb Roasted Turkey
When I was a kid, the turkey just went in the oven. Sure, maybe it got a little salt before it was unceremoniously slid into the hot box, but the overall “recipe” was pretty simple. Then came Food TV and the internet and suddenly there were a thousand ways to prepare your turkey, and controversies and competitions about what was best. Fry it, smoke it, roast it, break it down and cook it sous vide. Dry brine, wet brine, stare at it funny for five minutes, then threaten it with a well-deserved dressing. Don’t even get me started with the stuffed/unstuffed controversy.
This is a very simple preparation, and it’s tweaked for one purpose – to cook at the same temperature as everything else. There are low and slow and hot and fast recipes, and they all have their value. This one means one oven, one temp, and it makes the Thursday afternoon dish juggling a lot simpler. It’s dry brined with an herb salt and rested for a couple of days before cooking. Sorry, you do need to plan ahead on this. The one outlier here is that we rub the skin of the bird with baking powder right before roasting. This helps the skin crisp and brown as it would at a higher temp while still leaving the oven temp kind to the rest of your cooking.
1 turkey (8-14lbs - for a larger bird, scale up ingrediants)
2 tbsp kosher salt
1 tsp dry thyme
½ tsp rubbed sage
½ tsp dried rosemary leaves
½ tsp ground black pepper
1-2 tsp baking powder
Wash and dry your turkey.
Combine salt, thyme, sage, rosemary, and black pepper in the bowl of a mortar and pestle or in a spice grinder and grind until it’s a uniform powder.
Rub the salt/spice mixture all over the turkey – inside and out
Tuck the wingtips under the breast and tie up the legs.
Place on a sheet pan lined with a rack and refrigerate uncovered for at least 24 hours and up to 48 hours.
Preheat your oven to 350° F.
Remove the turkey from the refrigerator.
Blot dry with a towel.
Carefully rub all over with a very thin layer of baking powder. This will help the skin brown and crisp.
Roast at 350° F, turning several times, until the thick part of the breast reaches 165° F. This will depend on the size of the bird.
Allow to cool 20 minutes before carving.
Orange Ginger Cranberry Chutney
I’ve been making this cranberry sauce for the better part of twenty years. It’s not the wobbly can of bitter berry jelly you can slice out into red disks, but it’s delicious. Slightly spicy, with bright notes of orange and ginger. And best of all, it’s pretty simple. My one warning – because I’ve done it many times – it’s easy to burn if you accidentally turn the heat up. And burnt cranberry sauce is a pain in the butt to clean up.
8 oz fresh cranberries
1 navel orange
1 tsp fresh grated ginger
1 clove garlic
½ cup sugar
1 tbsp corn starch
Use a microplane to remove the zest from the orange.
Peel, trim, and mince the garlic.
Half the orange, and squeeze the juice into a sauce pot.
Add the cranberries, sugar, ginger, and garlic to the pot.
Cook over low heat until the cranberries are soft and burst.
Bring to a simmer and add a slurry of 1 tbsp corn starch and 2 tbsp water to thicken.
Pumpernickel Rye Stuffing with Walnuts, Apples, Herbs, and Sausage
You’ve gotta have stuffing. Or is it dressing? I’m know there’s some argument about whether it’s dressing if it’s stuffed in the bird, or stuffing if it’s baked separately. I’ve decided it’s like the couch, sofa, or chesterfield argument. They’re all the same, and there’s one weird one you use if you’re Canadian. I have a lot of Canadian family, so there’s always that one weird one. Anyway, this recipe calls for baking outside the bird, but you can of course use it to stuff (or is it dress?) the turkey - if you choose to do so, just google and follow any food safety recommendations and cut back slightly on the stock so it doesn’t get too wet.
1 loaf pumpernickel or marble rye
½ cup walnuts
8 oz bulk breakfast sausage
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 qt turkey stock
2 stalks celery
1 large onion
6-10 fresh sage leaves
1 small sprig rosemary
Small handful of parsley (fancy accurate measuring!)
2 sprigs fresh thyme
½ tsp fresh ground black pepper
2 tbsp kosher salt
Cut the bread into ½ inch cubes and spread on a sheet pan. Allow to dry overnight.
Peel, trim, and dice the onion.
Finely chop the herbs
Slice the celery.
In a medium saucepan, brown and crumble the sausage.
Add the butter to the sausage and drippings.
Add the onion and sauté until translucent.
Add the celery, and herbs, salt, and pepper.
Add the stock and bring to a low simmer.
Add the bread to the pot and stir to wet the bread cubes and combine the aromatics.
Pour into a greased skillet or pan and bake until cooked through and crispy on top., about 45 minutes to one hour.
Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Maple Syrup, Black Pepper, Bacon, and Almonds
Hey look, more brussels sprouts! I know it’s sort of becoming a standard here, but it’s autumn and “everything is coming up” … brassicas. Everything I’ve said before remains true, and these aren’t a big departure from the other sprout recipes I’ve shared in the past. Blanch, dress, cook, season. They’re pretty delicious though, and go really well with a plate piled high with turkey, gravy, stuffing, and cranberry sauce and that’s all that really matters, right?
1 1/2 lbs Brussels sprouts
2 pieces thick cut smoked bacon
2 tsp maple syrup
Pinch of cayenne pepper
¼ cup toasted slivered almonds
½ tsp fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp kosher salt plus more for blanching
Clean the sprouts. Trim off the dry end of the sprout stem. Peel away and discolored leaves.
Half each sprout.
Blanch and shock the sprouts: Prepare an ice bath. Bring a large pot of very salty water to a rolling boil. Drop the sprouts into the boiling water for 30 seconds to 1 minute until they turn bright green. Remove and immediately drop in the ice bath. Once cool, drain, and spread on a sheet pan lined with a towel. Refrigerate uncovered until ready to roast.
Preheat your oven to 350° F.
Slice the bacon into thin pieces.
Brown the bacon well, and drain, reserving the bacon fat.
Mix the bacon fat, salt, pepper, and cayenne.
Toss the sprouts in the mixture, then spread on a sheet pan.
Roast until the edges are dark and outer leaves are crispy.
Drizzle with maple syrup, scatter with almonds and bacon pieces, and roast an additional five minutes, or until syrup begins to caramelize slightly.
Roasted Carrots with Honey and Sumac
These are sort of the opposite of the glazed carrots that were a staple of the Thanksgiving table when I was a kid. They’re whole instead of sliced out, they’re only mildly sweet instead of teeth shatteringly treacly, and they’re finished with a dash of bright sour sumac. They’re simple and the flavor of the produce really shows through, so while you can make them with ordinary straight-from-the-bag supermarket carrots, they’re best with the small, relatively tender, multicolored top-on carrots that have recently become widely available.
3 bunches small carrots with greens attached
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp honey
1 tsp lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 tsp sumac
1 tsp kosher salt
Torn mint leaves for garnish
Preheat your oven to 350° F.
Remove all but ½ inch of the greens from each carrot. Peel and wash.
Season the carrots well with salt and dress with olive oil.
Roast at 350° F until the carrots are cooked to your preference (30-45 mins).
Toss the carrots with remaining olive oil and honey, and lemon juice.
Top with sumac.
Garnish with mint leaves.
Pecan Pie with Bourbon Whipped Cream
I don’t like pumpkin pie. I mean, I’ll eat it. I kind of like the first bite – provided that there’s enough whipped cream – but by about the fourth bite it’s just too much. I do, however, love pecan pie. It reminds me of the Butter Tarts I got every summer in Northern Ontario. That would probably be enough, but pecans are a great match for the sugar filling and the whole thing is much greater than the sum of its parts. It’s also a surprisingly quick and easy pie. You can use premade crusts or the crust recipe of your choice. I use King Arthur Baking’s All Butter Pie Crust recipe. To be honest, I’m kind of a crappy baker and I always add too much water. Even then, this buttery crust is a great match for the filling.
I like topping this with thick whipped cream spiked with a touch of bourbon – and though the recipe below calls for confectioners’ sugar, I generally leave it out. Good quality cream is sweet enough on its own.
1 unbaked pie crust
2 cups pecans
3 eggs
1 ½ cups granulated sugar
½ cup light corn syrup
2 tbsp melted butter
½ tsp vanilla extract
½ tsp ground (or fresh grated) cinnamon
Preheat your oven to 350° F.
Whisk together eggs, butter, sugar and corn syrup.
Add the vanilla and cinnamon.
Add the pecans, and stir well to combine.
Pour into your pie crust.
Gently tap on the counter a few times to remove any air bubbles.
Bake at 350° F for 45 mins to 1 hour or until fully set.
Allow to cool completely before serving.
Serve with Bourbon whipped cream
Bourbon Whipped Cream
1 cup heavy cream
½ oz bourbon
1 tbsp confectioners’ sugar
Whip or whisk the cream until very stiff peaks form.
Whisk in the sugar and bourbon.
Enjoy.
Enjoyed your bullshit story about your father. My dad passed away suddenly 23 years ago and still often find situations where I think about what he would say.