How I Roasted Our Holiday Turkey to Perfection…

Quick background: my Thanksgiving turkey was terrible. I roasted it at the now-fashionable high temperature (450 degrees) and even though I’d brined it, taken every precaution, it was dry.

Christmas dinner would be for ten, family from near and far (New York, Paris!). I wanted the feast to be splendid. Starting with great turkey…

Thursday the 19th I went to our market to buy The Bird. I asked the butcher to guide me. Of several in his freezer case, one was the breastiest bird I’ve ever seen—I mean, twenty feet of breast meat bursting in every direction. The turkey was fourteen pounds, a bit more than I needed but leftover turkey is so great. Tapping it, I asked the butcher about it and he smiled and said that bird was the very best of all—raised free range (a life of munching grasses, not cooped up), a Diestel Family Ranch Organic American Heirloom.* I read later it’s one of an historic breed (“been around for hundreds of years”). It crossed my mind to phone Bill and ask what would he think about spending $100 on the turkey? Two seconds’ thought and I knew he’d say Do it! (Anyway, our New Leaf market gives old people 10% off on Thursdays, so that brought the price down to $90…gulp…I’d better roast it perfectly…)

To be thawed in time for two days of brining, the butcher said to allow one day in the fridge for every four-to-five pounds… So I tucked Gobble in the freezer overnight, first thing Friday morning moved it to our old Sears Roebuck fridge in the garage. Then I began to fret, so I emailed cherished cooking gurus about what temperature they roasted their turkey. Responses were uniformly an old-fashioned moderate temp. (I’ve written about Barbara Kafka and her admirable innovations of high-temperature roasting/baking…sometimes a straight 425 degrees works, sometimes it doesn’t—I’ll bet Kafka’d be the first to admit that. Department of Nothing-Is-Perfect.)

Culinarily speaking, this matter of brining—i.e. salting—poultry before cooking is relatively new—my no-nonsense grandmother (a great cook) would have pooh-poohed the fussy notion. But salt does draw juices through flesh and make it juicier, more tender. A proven fact.

Then how to brine, wet or dry?

Wet brining is soaking the bird in a salty bath. I chose not to commit Gobble to days in a plastic sack of wet brine (too big, too messy, nix on plastic).

Dry-brining is sprinkling the bird with kosher salt—larger granules than table salt. I found a formula** that I modified a bit, herbal and peppery, which appealed to me. There are all sorts of numbers for salt-to-pounds-of-meat…the one I chose worked beautifully.

A new twist since I’ve been doing this technique is to spread the salt under the bird’s skin, directly on the flesh, while keeping the skin intact. This takes patience because you must gently nudge the tips of your fingers forward breaking connecting membrane.

Was it worth the effort? On my first bite of juicy roasted meat, I could taste the herbs…was I jubilant!

For the technique I chose, the salted bird is placed in its roasting pan uncovered in the fridge—theory being the skin dries and crispens exposed to the chill air. I notice some dry brining recipes call for placing the bird in a plastic bag for the fridge…As I mentioned, I’m trying to avoid plastic contact with food and besides, the air-drying process does give crispy skin.

Stuck Gobble in the fridge uncovered, gave a blessing.

Dry brining is generally recommended for one to three days, one being the minimum, and I read three days gives super results. But that much time in salt makes me a tad nervous…my two worked beautifully.

Then which temperature for roasting? Diestal recommends 325 degrees, but none of my gurus had given specific numbers. With a small fortune invested in the matter, I was stressed–at sixes and sevens…at three-twenty-fives and three-hundred-fifties…

Then I had one of those Aha! flashes. The New York Times’ vibrant young food journalist Melissa Clark!*** I’ve found her recipes to be a blend of my grandmother, Alice Vinegar’s, American plainsong with enough contemporary flourishes to make them fresh. They’ve always worked for me. So you’ll see my take on her recent roasting recommendations…

Christmas Day—Roasting Day—I pulled Gobble from the fridge about three hours before going into the oven. Often recipes say “remove from the fridge one hour before roasting.” But from what I’ve read over the years, food—from eggs to flesh–cooks more efficiently if it’s close to neutral room temperature when being whammed with oven’s heat.

What went into the pan? What went over the bird before roasting? Did I truss it? Baste it? Stuff it?

These days, most recipes ask for the bird to be suspended in a rack above the metal pan which will get scalding hot—i.e., tucked into a V-shaped rack. I’ve never had such a rack because I keep forgetting to buy one. And for decades I simply lay the bird in the pan on a bed of veggies. What I do have (it came with the pan) is a flat rack with handles that suspends the bird about an inch above the pan, and that does the job. A layer of vegetables beneath the rack protects the bird from heat and adds to the flavor of the pan-made gravy…a twofer.

And no I didn’t truss (tie up) the bird. I forget and am too occupied at this point to look up the classic reasons for trussing, but I’ve long felt that with legs open in natural position, heat can reach them more uniformly–as well as reach the breast meat beside them. And if the cavity is left open, heat can easily enter. Wings I tucked against the breast (they didn’t tuck easily). They could be left loose too, I guess, but wings are smaller and thinner and if exposed to heat on all sides, they’d likely overroast.

No I didn’t baste it. In the olden days, I did, opened the oven door something like every twenty minutes to ladle buttery juices over the bird. No more. I’m of the opinion that after a kick in the pants start (450 degrees for 30 minutes), then a slightly higher temperature than traditional—350 degrees instead of 325—keeps the juices flowing nicely. Kind of low key Kafka-esque.

And no I didn’t stuff it. Present day opinion is that stuffing impedes roasting…and stuffing can be just as delicious when baked in its own dish, not inside the bird. (I recently read—I love this—that the traditional savory dish of seasoned bread cubes is called stuffing when it’s stuffed inside the bird, but it’s dressing when it’s baked in a dish on its own…I understand it’s always called dressing in the American South no matter how it’s baked.)

OK, here we go on my delectable journey of discovery.

Dry Brining the Turkey~1 to 3 days
(Adjust amounts proportionately to your turkey’s weight—herbs can be of your choosing)
1 14-pound thawed whole turkey (not kosher, self-basting, or “enhanced”…already salted)
3 tablespoons kosher salt
Scant 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon dried sage leaves
1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary leaves

At least 2 and up to 4 days before Roasting Day, remove the turkey from its package. Pull out giblets and neck—save for giblet gravy! Discard any metal or plastic pieces attached to the bird. Rinse with cold water inside and out, dry with paper towels. Set breast up in its rimmed roasting pan.
In a small bowl, thoroughly blend kosher salt, pepper, and herbs.
Sprinkle 2 teaspoons of the mixture inside the bird’s cavity, spread it around with your fingertips.
With the turkey breast up, take your time using fingertips to gently separate the skin from the flesh —without tearing–all across the entire breasts and then up and down the legs and thighs (finding the way into the legs/thighs can be challenging).
Now as evenly as you can, under the skin directly on the flesh, spread 1 teaspoon salt blend over each breast.
Spread 1 teaspoon salt blend under the skin directly over each leg and thigh.
On top of the skin, evenly sprinkle remaining salt blend all over the bird, pat to press into skin.
Set the pan uncovered in a fridge and give the bird your blessing and salutes for one to three days.

Now I’m giving you my schedule…of course adjust it to your serving time.
Guests were expected at 6:00…I didn’t have hors d’oeuvres…I planned to start with an arugula salad around 6:15, then send everyone with their plate into our kitchen for the buffet.

Roasting the Turkey ~ 10+ servings*****
At some point in all this, place an oven rack so the bird will be positioned in the center of the oven.

Flavorings for Roasting
2 medium onions, peeled and cut in 8 pieces
1 to 2 lemons, cut in 4 pieces
2 or 3 fresh (or 1 to 2 dried) bay leaves, optional
2 to 3 4-inch branches fresh rosemary, sage, or thyme
2 cups chicken or turkey broth or apple cider or white wine—this will provide moisturizing steam for the bird and flavor your gravy
Olive oil

On serving day, about three hours before planning to start roasting, remove the bird in the pan from cold fridge to room temperature. Settle the turkey centrally in or on the rack with only the wings tucked tightly against the bird. Do not cover.
At some point prepare onions, lemons, garlic, herbs. Lift the rack from the pan and strew about half the flavorings around the pan, tuck the rest inside the bird. Do not close the cavity. Slosh your flavoring liquid of choice over the pan. Return the turkey on its rack to the pan.

4 hours before planning to serve: Turn oven to 450 degrees.

3-1/2 hours before planning to serve: Spray turkey evenly all over with olive oil**** or brush lightly with oil, not dislodging salt blend.

Set pan centered in the oven! Wheehoo!!!

30 minutes later: Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees…now COVER BREASTS with a sheet of foil! Do not forget this step!

1-3/4 hours later: Start testing with your instant thermometer in the thickest part of a thigh…when temp registers 165 degrees, remove pan from oven…set bird on carving board, and tent (don’t wrap snugly) with foil…let roast rest 30 to 40 minutes so meat can reabsorb juices… molto important step!

…meanwhile, make giblet gravy in the roasting pan (first removing large pieces of seasoning veggies)

30 – 40 minutes after removing from oven, start carving the turkey (with a very sharp knife)

Serve! ..cannot believe this turkey!

When Bill’s television producer bon-vivant grandson Arthur (that’s Arthur of Paris) and I were huddled together by the carving board as I took a first pass at separating the leg from the whole, juices that flowed from the meat made us gasp. When I sliced a couple of small pieces for us just to taste, we tasted, then looked at each other. Arthur—a gifted cook—said, “I don’t believe it.” I didn’t believe it either. I’d never seen, never tasted such turkey.

What a relief that I’ll never have to worry about roasting turkey again!

*You can order one online. https://diestelturkey.com/products/organic-american-heirloom-whole-turkey/.
**Adapted from a dry brine on www.thekitchn.com.
*** https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1015474-simple-roast-turkey
****Termed a “Glass Oil Sprayer for Cooking,” I plan to write about this invaluable tool soon—it takes the place of a basting brush. (Amazon.)
*****For number of servings, consensus says 14 pounds serves 9 to 10…but we served 10 that night, several took seconds, and we had turkey sandwiches for a couple of days…Of course it depends on appetites.