The Thanksgiving Post, Finally [Part 1 - Turkey and Gravy]

Thanksgiving was only two weeks ago- this post series isn't that late.  Better late than never because most of these dishes get reused for Christmas anyway.  Minus cleanup, Thanksgiving is arguably the greatest holiday in the universe.  I don't know any other time when excessive indulgence is condoned.

Historical data shows that one of the few traditions in place is that we have never prepared a turkey the same way twice.  It isn't due to our strive for perfection or that the year's past was so terrible- but we never write anything down.  Word on the street is that there was a recipe this year, but the document was long lost by the time we sat down to eat.  The poor thing didn't even last a day.

This Thanksgiving began like all the others- my Dad getting a 15+ pound turkey compliments of Springbrook's Turkey Shoot, some goofy golf event.  The twist this year, is that that very turkey was given to Loaves and Fishes.  A more suitable nine pound turkey was promptly purchased.

One of those times where it would be nice to have a double oven.

The day before, the long lost marinade was implemented.  I know there was lemon, and herbs that were green in color.  What is remembered of the process, is that the executive decision was made to forfeit efficiency and baste the bird while cooking.

Who cares if this meant that a nine pound turkey would now require four plus hours of cooking time and another half to rest?  We're basting- just like those little house on the prairie people.  Basting will create a super crispy delicious skin and moist meat.  Well, technically the basting doesn't make the meat moist, but the opening and closing of the oven door, which has to be done to baste, throughout cooking does.  Everytime the door opens and lets heat out, the turkey gets a mini rest.  This is good for keeping the meat far from dry and chewy.

Of course, this additional time meant that our Gantt chart would be rendered useless.  Things are done when they're done, and I'll tell you the second that happens- no sooner.  If this means we have to turn the grill into an oven to accommodate sides then so be it- cooking is all about improvisation and System D.

Basting allowed us to compact a bonus 32 fl oz box of stock into the skin.  No shortcuts in doing that.  We just happen to be a group of people that cherish the finer things in life, like crispy skin.  If you're not into that- I pray that you will be in the next life.

The last known location of the neck.

Loyal readers know I love duck so there should be no surprise in the turkey's appearance.  I swear it isn't an oversized bird from Sun Wah BBQ. 

This is an impossible accomplishment for people using the blue light special turkey roaster.  While it frees oven space, the bird ends up getting steamed during the process.  No rich color.  No crispy skin.

A common quarrel at the Thanksgiving table is over cuts of turkey.  Some think white meat is better, others dark.  Some want breasts while others want thighs.  I can tell you that all of these people are wrong.  The best part is the neck.

Many people forget that cooking is a privilege, not a right.  Mine are revoked during the holidays, and anytime I visit home.  But when the fate of the one single turkey neck is at stake, the rules change.  After commenting on how great the neck is, because we are hungry and lack the patience to eat it with the rest of the meal, my Dad drops the bomb.  "Mike, you know, you make the best gravy.  There are all these great drippings in the pan- you should do something great with them."  Me?  Gravy?  Cooking?  At the parent's house?  No brainer.

For the record, I've never made gravy in my life.  Somehow, that doesn't change the fact that I make the best gravy.  I was over to the stove in a flash because I already had the notion of making a three bird gravy.  There were turkey drippings, chicken drippings from the stock, and I had a reserve of rendered duck fat.  It was meant to be.  Just as it was meant for my dad to eat the rest of the turkey neck behind my back, literally.  Playing someone's ego is always a brilliant move- in the kitchen, in business, and in life.

Words leave me. 

This was all done while the turkey is resting.  First thing was to get the turkey's vessel on the stove top and crank up the heat.  I had poured off the liquid into another container to sort out the gizzards.  After some minor scraping I poured the liquid back in, with some additional stock.  I didn't add very much stock because I didn't want to dilute the solution.  Quality over quantity.  Threw in some cornstarch and the dish was near completion. 

Three Bird Gravy

A common French technique to thicken a sauce is to add a pad of butter at the end of cooking.  I did this, but with duck fat instead of butter.  This is a far richer, and arguably more healthy alternative.  The sauce can even be taken off the burner for this step.  The residual heat will delicately melt the lipid and that sauce will absorb all the goodness.  The duck fat also gives the gravy a very glossy finish- which I think looks great.

The best-to-date turkey and gravy are complete.  We're in a good place.  Unfortunately if we stopped now the meal would be far too healthy.  Next time I'll cover the best part of the meal- the sides.  One of them may be vengeance.

Comments

[wayne]

Looks good man. Good job on the gravy. I'm anxious to see what you had for sides at your Thanksgiving. I could probably write a short story about all the sides I had from the two Thanksgivings I attended.