 I am not a person who revels in controversy. I'd rather everyone feels calmly appreciated and protected in their differing opinions, at least when it comes to the relatively low stakes of food. So when I tell you that one time I wrote something that made people kind of mad, you need to understand that I meant it. I meant what I said when I said that turkey just isn't very good. I wasn't trying to get a rise out of people; it's just true (and I feel better saying this now that Thanksgiving is safely over for another year).
I do, however, think that turkey stock is sublime. In fact, turkey broth is extraordinary in a dramatically inverse proportion to the rather wan appeal of a big roasted turkey and its endless leftovers. If you have turkey left over after a petite gathering, let me get a little scene-chewing with you and quote my own piece on my deep feelings for turkey stock:
Turkey stock tastes like a winter day at home with sunlight pouring in, glinting off the snow; one of those post-blizzard afternoons where the roads are closed and schools are shut down and your boss is on vacation; but Netflix still works and there are cookies in the pantry and half a bottle of wine in the fridge.
Turkey stock is everything chicken broth wishes it could be. Turkey stock is hot, buttery toast made from flawless craggy bread. Turkey stock is the grass-fed, charcoal-grilled ribeye of the broth world. Turkey stock is the slice of birthday cake, eaten for breakfast. Turkey stock is hitting the snooze button then remembering it's a holiday. Turkey stock is your sleeping toddler's head, warm and heavy on your shoulder. Turkey stock is clean, crisp sheets. Turkey stock is money in the bank, meals in the freezer, all your laundry folded and put away.
Turkey stock is the soup you remember for years, the taste that lingers in your memory. Turkey stock is a billion grandmothers saying, "Eat this, it's good for you!" and by golly, your cold is gone the next morning.
I said it and I stand by it. If you have any scrap of turkey leftovers at all, be it bones, or gristle, or overcooked breast meat, I want you to dump all that into a slow cooker, Instant Pot, or big pot right this second, add some carrot and celery and onion, a few quarts of water, and let it simmer as long as you can. Cover it, put it in the oven overnight on low heat. Bask in the aroma.
Then tomorrow morning or whenever it is finished, pour off that literal liquid gold, salt it generously, and drink it warm for breakfast; or simmer a cup of jasmine rice all day with ginger slices until becomes the best congee you ever had; or sauté Italian sausage crumbles in bacon fat, add onion, then your broth, and finish it off with a handful of frozen kale and some tiny pasta. And why stop there? Head into the soup archives for a turkey tortilla soup, or a post-Thanksgiving veggie number. Boom. That's how you end Thanksgiving. It's not over until the turkey stock is in your belly.
Plus, a few more good things for you:
Last but not least, next week we're kicking off the most fun cookie collection! Starting Tuesday, December 1, we'll send you one amazing cookie recipe a day, for 20 days. These cookies bring joy to the year and would make an excellent gift to mail to a friend or drop off on their doorstep. We'd love to have you join us for this delicious journey. Sign up here!
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Sunday, November 29, 2020
Still got turkey? You only need one idea, and I have it!
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