Jon Frankel

This is reposted from Jon Frankel's blog The Last Bender

Tales of Turkey

Fresh local turkeys are only available at this time of year so I usually stock up. There are all kinds of options, from organic to toxic. At the coop there are frozen natural turkeys from Vermont, at $2.99 a pound, as well as fresh natural turkeys and fresh organic ones. Organic turkeys go for anywhere from 4.50-5.50 a pound. In the past I’ve bought these expensive birds. McDonald farm raises a delicious bird, plump, yes, but not a fat, unhealthy, greasy bird with yellow skin and breasts like Dolly Parton. The birds are leaner, with strong thighs and long breast meat. When I lived in NY I would sometimes by a ‘wild’ turkey from the farmer’s market. These were domestically raised wild birds, I think. Certainly they were not actual wild turkeys from the woods. But they were much leaner than even pasture raised, free range turkeys. Wild turkey is lean and its body is totally different from a domestic one. They have strong backs and long legs and the breast meat lies practically flat against the bone. The flavor is not exactly gamey. They are not like ducks or geese. The meat is white and tender, if cooked just to temperature and kept moist with olive oil, butter or, my favorite, bacon. The best wild bird I ever cooked was one shot by my brother-in-law. I draped the breast with bacon and stuffed bacon in-between the skin and the flesh, and liberally rubbed the meat with olive oil, garlic and rosemary. Then we roasted it in the old, beat up electric wall oven in my sister’s ancient, unrenovated farmhouse kitchen. The turkey came out with an intensity of flavor that I remember to this day. It was aromatic of the woods and fields that this tall, absolutely magnificent bird struts through. (There is a joke that the turkey thinks it’s beautiful because it can only see itself from the neck down).

The domesticated version lacks the majesty of a wild turkey but a free-ranging bird has deep flavor and a chewy texture, not the mush of factory meat. This year I’ll buy 4 turkeys, two from a local farmer, Autumn Harvest, and two from Outboard Dave, a guy my sister and brother-in-law know on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, who raises chickens and turkeys. I’m paying the farmer $3.50 a pound and Outboard Dave about 2-3, $45 bucks for each turkey. I’ll roast the biggest turkey and cut the meat off of one, using the carcass to make a rich stock for the sauce. The other two I’ll freeze, cut into pieces or whole, for later use.

To make the stock I brown the carcass and giblets with onions, carrots, celery and garlic, as well as some leek tops, in the oven. To facilitate this I’ll rub olive oil, a tiny bit of salt and pepper and tomato paste over the pieces. When it is bronzed I deglaze the pan with white wine and put it all in a stock pot with water and bring it slowly to a simmer. Throughout the day, into the stock pot will go the trimmings of parsley, sage, rosemary (no thyme), parsnips, carrots, celery, onion ends and what have you. After six hours I’ll strain it, add a whole bottle of wine and then reduce it until it is dark and thick. The smell fills the house. Hours before dinner you can taste gravy.

I sauté the livers with shallots, white wine and sage and we eat them on toast.

The turkey I prepare simply: lemon, salt, pepper, rosemary, sage, garlic and olive oil. This I massage into the skin and into the meat. I stuff the cavity with 3 whole lemons pierced with a chopstick in several places and a little chopped celery, carrot, garlic and onion. I make a bed of aromatics in the roasting pan and roast the bird breast side down, with cheese cloth or foil to protect the skin, in a 450 degree oven until it is well browned. Then I flip it (with a lot cursing!) breast side up, lower the temperature to 325 and roast for about 3-4 hours. Often it is done hours before dinner. (we eat at 7!) That’s no problem. A turkey should rest, and it can rest for hours and still be warm. I make a pan gravy, a reduction of wine and the rich stock. Then it’s the usual: mashed potatoes, with ungodly amounts of butter and heavy cream, onion, sage and apple stuffing with sour dough bread and lots of parsley, kale cooked with bacon and a tossed salad. I do make a vegan bowl of the mashed potatoes for myself, and a little stuffing without pan drippings for the vegetarian. The carcass becomes a minestrone soup. The leftover stock I freeze for future gravies, and the turkeys in the freezer feed us many times throughout the winter: stewed turkey thighs, turkey piccata, what have you. I love turkey!