Gentle Reader, While I’m closeted writing a novel I hope you’ll enjoy reading, it’s been suggested I post pieces from earlier years … years when I was freshly widowed, living in or near L.A. with my dog, waiting for Bill to appear. Do please bear with me!
A View from 15 years ago: Friday, November 27, 2009
What I learned from my Thanksgiving dinner…
THE MASHED POTATOES: I learned that you cannot prepare mashed potatoes ahead of time, not even an hour. For FLUFFY potatoes — and isn’t that the point? — the potatoes should be steamed rather than boiled (not water-logged this way), put through the food mill or ricer hot, blended with melted sweet butter and hot half-and-half (proportions are easy: ½ stick butter and ½ cup half-and-half per pound of russets, which serves 2 to 3) salted and white-peppered, turned into a warm bowl, sent straight to the buffet. Hard to do when there’s so much else going on at the last minute, but worth it….
SUMMER TRUFFLES: At the market I saw a little jar with four small black balls labeled “Summer Truffles,” temptingly priced, I was thrilled — I’d add them to the mashed potatoes. Yesterday morning I opened the jar, cut the first into slivers and tasted a piece, quivering with anticipation. Wow. I looked down at the bits. Really? Is it possible? I tasted another. It was possible. Zero flavor. Zip. None. Today I Googled the term and read, “Summer truffles do not have as strong an aroma or taste as winter truffles do.” Understatement of the year.
THE CANDIED SWEET POTATOES: I’m done using canned sweets. Not worth saving time and energy … many pieces are mushy, but more importantly, their flavor has no depth. And I’m not sure that pouring maple syrup over the slices in a gratin dish is the answer … I added orange zest and melted sweet butter, but they were blah. The best candied sweets are cooked pieces finished in a skillet with brown sugar and butter, yes? Besides, having just one oven, the fewer dishes I have to bake after the turkey comes out, the better.
THE GIBLET GRAVY: Two days’ cooking is not too long for memorable gravy. I simmered the turkey giblets with buckets of chicken hearts and gizzards in low-sodium beef broth on Tuesday, let them chill, then first thing I did yesterday morning was chop them coarsely and set them again to simmering. At some point, I decided to finish the gravy as much as I could, adding Madeira, Kitchen Bouquet (my grandmother’s favorite seasoning, and how a slosh of this deep brown coloring made of caramel and vegetables transforms gravy from lackluster to rich), and Wondra flour (blessings on it for not making lumps). Simmered simmered simmered. When the turkey was done around 2:00 o’clock, I turned everything in the bottom of the roasting pan (yes, even the bit of melted fat), and boy oh boy, THAT DID IT! I’ve never ever made such a gravy.
STUFFING BAKED IN THE TURKEY: Not going to do it again. First of all, the powers that be make a big thing about the stuffing reaching 165 degrees before you can safely serve it … and maybe it will reach that temp and maybe it won’t. Second of all, when my son carved the turkey, I was too busy to remember to ask him to spoon the stuffing into a bowl, in slicing, he did not notice it, and last night when I was putting food away, I found soft stuffing mooshed all around the turkey platter. Ah. The stuffing I had baked (bread cubes, cooked chestnuts, dried cranberries) was the perfect texture. From now on, my turkey will roast empty.
THE DRY BRINED TURKEY: Yes, I did it, began Monday morning. And yes it was easy. Yes the bird roasted to an amazing bronze, the meat was juicy, and not salty. Great success. Except its 15 pounds 12 ounces reached 165 degrees IN TWO HOURS! Yoiks. I’d counted on close to three. I put the turkey back in the oven at 200 degrees and let it think about things while I gathered my wits…no harm done. Next year I’ll know better.
THE CREAMED ONIONS: I saw the bags of frozen pearl onions, they looked darling. They were darling and my cream sauce was super (if I do say so myself — I flicked in a hint of Parmigiano-Reggiano, imperceptible but added depth). However, the onions were too dainty — again, I regretted trying to save time and energy. Next year, back to fresh boiling onions …meatier, more flavor.
THE GINGER PUMPKIN MICE (lame joke … plural of mousses): I saw an appealing recipe in “The Silver Palate Cookbook” that could be a dessert for people who don’t want pie. Typical me, it wasn’t until I was ready to assemble the recipe—the oven was heated to custard’s 325 degrees, all my little ramekins were prettily lined up — that I realized it was made with gelatin, and uncooked. THE EGGS WERE RAW! Oh my. Considering what a fuss is made about the potential danger of eating raw eggs, I was interested — and reassured — that this recipe had held its place in an edition published in 2007. I decided to make the dessert and tell everybody, and if they were nervous, they could pass. No one passed, and the smooth pumpkin cream with chopped candied ginger on top was delectable. Somehow it was comforting, preparing a dish from another era when danger did not lurk behind every raw egg….
THE PEOPLE: Yep, you guessed it. My family and friends around our Thanksgiving table are what made the dinner marvelous. Good food is nice but good people are what one is thankful for….
THE AVOIRDUPOIS: Now I have to do a heck of a lot more walking … and less eating … to drop the two pounds I gained in the feast. I don’t mind. The thinking, the cooking, the eating, the camaraderie, made it a wonderful wonderful Thanksgiving.
And it’s always good to keep learning.
