On Cooking a Heritage Turkey

"Did someone say turkey?"

Thanksgiving, perhaps my all-time favorite holiday (the whole point is to celebrate family and food - what could possibly be better?!?), is a mere three weeks away!  If you are hosting this year and want to serve a heritage breed turkey, now is the time to order one.  More and more specialty stores are starting to carry heritage turkeys, but not so many that you can walk in and pick one up.  Order ahead!

When ordering a heritage bird, you need to be a little flexible.  The options I got were for a 7-14 pound bird, a 14-20 pound bird, or a 20+ pound bird.  That's a wide range of poundage.  But if you talk to the butcher, he or she can probably narrow it down to the size you want once the birds start coming in.  It looks like we'll have 12-14 people this year so I went with the 14-20 pound bird (bring on the leftovers), but I expect to get a bird between 14 and 16 pounds.

Last year was my first year cooking a heritage breed turkey, a Bourbon Red.  A Bourbon Red turkey is not the same thing as your standard supermarket turkey.  For one thing, the flesh really is pink.  This caused a bit of a fuss last year.  We took the turkey out of the oven based on the temperature reading of the thermometer and started to carve.  The turkey was pink.  It was decided (by the cadre of folks milling in the kitchen) that this turkey clearly wasn't done and back into the oven it went.  Alas, it was more done than we thought and in the end, the turkey was dried out and overcooked.  So here's your word of warning- A Bourbon Red Turkey is Red!  Shocking, I know.  Don't expect the white meat to be white, because it's going to be pink.  Trust that good old thermometer.  Also, look for the juices to run clear (not pink).

Another difference is in the flavor of the meat.  The bird has a higher dark-meat-to-white-meat ratio than your standard turkey and therefore it is much more flavorful.  Also, be careful as the breast is smaller and may have a tendency to dry out.  I brined our bird for two days but still ended up with a dry bird, though as I explained above, this was mostly due to operator error.  I read several recipes last year that called for separating the legs and the breasts so that the heritage turkey would cook more evenly.  I think this would have helped, though I just can't imagine Thanksgiving without a nice, big, bird to carve into.

The game plan for this year is to try to avoid the mistakes of last year.  Firstly, I will not be drunk by the time the turkey comes out of the oven: "Sure, throw it back in for another half hour! Sounds good to me!  Where's the Pinot?"  Secondly, I will again brine the turkey and hope this helps.  Lastly, I will watch the temperature like a hawk and trust the thermometer to know when the meat is cooked, rather than rely on the color of the flesh.  This site has a nice selection of recipes for your heritage turkey.  Here's hoping for a more successful and delicious Bourbon Red in 2011!

Of Bow Ties and Bulldogs

I'm feeling like this:



Like a tired bulldog who just wants to take a nap with her bow ties.  Is that so much to ask for?



Apparently I have greatly underestimated the time and energy required to move an entire pair of lives (plus mongrels) overseas.  Every day I look at the calendar and think "Ooo! It's one day closer to moving to Scotland!" immediately followed by "My dear sweet Jesus, how on earth is this actually going to happen?"  Yup.  That's my world.  Wake up, rinse, and repeat.

So how, precisely, did I think I could carve out time to plant lettuce, carrots and radishes for Thanksgiving???  I believe I must be delusional.  Two weeks have passed and no seeds or seedlings have entered the garden.  It is clearly time to give up on the root crops, but I am holding out hope that I can still manage to get the lettuces into the garden in time (see above regarding delusional).  We'll see if that actually happens.  Thankfully, I live (for now) in the world of the year-round farmer's market so I know that I can always pick up anything I need in time for the holidays.

Meanwhile, my nieces (owners of the photogenic bulldog) built a snowman back east.  What?  Before Halloween?  I remember the year it snowed at Thanksgiving (in coastal Connecticut) and we were ecstatic to go run around the yard with the cousins before it all melted.  Yet out here I still have a bunch of tomatoes hanging off the vines, peppers of every variety, eggplants, and squash ready to harvest.  I better enjoy all this summer-veg-in-fall now because this will not be happening in my future Glaswegian Garden. 

Wish me luck with that Thanksgiving planting...

Thanksgiving Planting

Here is the situation: we are just over 5 weeks away from Thanksgiving and I want to grow some food for it.  The time to have thought of this was May, really, but I didn't so I am going to go with things that will grow quickly and I will utilize nursery transplants.  Around here, it's also possible to have summer veggies still hanging on into November, but I'm not going to count on them.  It all depends on when the first frost comes and I'm not going to plan a menu around something so fickle.  This is what I plan to grow.


Chard transplants, too close together

Chard
I still have chard transplants from last fall that are growing very well.  I might add a few more transplants to ensure a large harvest, but I probably don't need it.  Chard is amazing because you can just pick the outside leaves and the center continues to grow.  I've been employing the cut-and-come-again method for a year and the chard shows no sign of slowing down.  The harvest will become Italian Chard Stuffing.  This recipe is amazing.  We made it last year and I ate the leftovers for days - it's a perfect dish filled with sausage, chard, and bread, basically a complete meal.  Well, complete when you add in some cranberry sauce...

Lettuce
Another leafy green that will grow well in the next few weeks is lettuce.  The time is a little short to plant from seed, unless I want micro-greens.  Therefore I'll pick up some transplants from the nursery.  As long as we don't get a hot spell and I can keep the slugs at bay, the lettuce should do well enough to create a nice large pear, walnut and blue cheese salad.  I think the mustard dressing and the blue cheese will add a nice counterpoint to the other sweet and savory flavors of Thanksgiving.  Also, I'll be able to pick the pears up in season at the farmer's market.

Radish
If you plant radishes from seed, they will be ready in 4-5 weeks.  That leaves me just enough time to put a bunch of radish seeds into the garden and hope they grow quickly enough.  I will use the fresh baby radishes in a little appetizer of thinly sliced radish on baguette with butter and sea salt.  With so many people coming for dinner (12 and counting), it will be key to have some yummy nibbles kicking around to avoid a hunger-inspired mutiny.

Carrot
This one is a complete and utter experiment.  There isn't enough time to grow full-sized carrots, but there might be time to grow some little wee mini carrots.  I have several packets with seeds that need to be used up (they are 2 or 3 years old so their viability is waning).  I will plant them and then see what happens.  Even if they are small, I can serve them as crudites or (what I am loosely planning to do) roast them with some other root vegetables.  If it works, I think the teeny carrots will be an adorable addition to the usual roasted Thanksgiving suspects.

I'll keep you all posted on the progress and if you are growing anything for your Thanksgiving feast, drop a note in the comments!

A Confession...

I have a confession to make: I am leaving the Mighty Kitchen Garden.  In about two months, my husband, the mongrels, and I are picking up and moving to Glasgow, Scotland.  From sunny California.  In mid-winter.  It will be dark, and also, cold and wet.  What?

We're still having a hard time wrapping our heads around it, but it is very apparent when I wander around the MKG.  Normally, this is the time I'd be ordering garlic bulbs and worrying that I was letting the cucurbits hang on too long.  I should be cleaning out the beds and starting the brassicas in the vain hope that I could get something harvestable before January (haven't managed to yet).  But by January, we will be gone, and someone else will be tending the MKG.  Weird.

Instead, I find myself wondering if there is anything I could plant now that would be ready for the Thanksgiving table.  We're a little mad (as in cuckoo) and have invited our whole extended families to come feast with us one last time on US soil (at least for now).  That may or may not add up to 16 adults to feed.  Ahem.  Like I said, we're mad.

The problem will be figuring out what I can grow in this time frame that they would all be interested in eating.  For example, bok choy is a quick plant, particularly if you start with seedlings.  But will my family eat it?  Unclear.  Chard always grows like a weed and in fact last years plants seem to be doing just fine.  The hit of last Thanksgiving was an Italian stuffing with pork sausage and tons of chard.  It was fabulous and it will definitely be on the table again.  Radishes grow well and quickly, so I can plant a crop of them in time for the holidays (like now!), but what to do with them?  Maybe I can make a little buttered sea-salted radish on toast appetizer to pass around.  And herbs are always a hit.

This year, instead of planning the future winter garden of the MKG, I'll plan the Thanksgiving MKG.  I'll figure out what plants I can grow in this short 6-week time frame and then plan the menu accordingly.  I won't be thinking too far into the future with this season's garden.  Considering the circumstances, it's time to focus on the present.

Irish-Twisted Crepes

It was a cold day in January around the turn of the century, the Grosse Pointe Blank soundtrack was in heavy rotation, and we were snowed in to the apartment. No car to use, just our feet... and fresh snow in the streets up to our knees. It certainly looked pretty, but not the sort of thing you want to venture out into for provisions when the store is a 20-minute-walk-on-a-good-day away. It was time to get creative.

Alas, the pickings were slim. We found a couple eggs (protein!) and some flour (carbohydrates!) and started thinking that crepes would be just the ticket. But wait... the only liquids in the fridge were Fierce Lime Gatorade, orange juice, and Piñña Colada mix leftover from the New Year. We thought (in clear desperation), "Gee, Piña Colada mix isn't all that different from milk, really" and went with it as a substitution.

In our haste to eat, the proportions were a bit... off. Instead of Piña Colada Crepes, we had made Piña Colada Pancrepes. Not quite a pancake, not quite a crepe. But you know what? They were ab-so-lute-ly delicious!

Ever since that fateful night it has become tradition for me to start my St. Paddy's Day with a breakfast of Baileys Irish Cream Crepes, the sophisticated older sister of the P.C. Pancrepe. The flavor is subtle and delicious. Sometimes I top them with butter and sugar, other times with fresh whipped cream and a drizzle of Baileys. However you top them, I recommend a nice Irish coffee alongside (Baileys and Jameson in mine, thanks).

So here it is, my St. Paddy's Day gift to you: the Baileys Irish Cream Crepe!

Baileys Irish Cream Crepes
Serves 1-2
This recipe produces an eggy crepe. The following ratio is good for ~four small crepes. Increase the recipe to accomodate your St. Paddy's Day crowd.

2 eggs
1 heaping Tbl flour
2 Tbl Baileys Irish Cream
butter

Put your favorite pan on the stove over medium heat. Heat the pan until a dash of water flicked in the pan balls up and rolls (rather than sizzling and evaporating).

Meanwhile, crack the eggs into a bowl and beat lightly. If you have a bowl with a pour spout, it will make life easier. Add the flour and Baileys and beat until smooth. If you feel so-inclined, add the flour through a sifter to cut down on lumps.

When the pan has reached medium-hot, put a pat of butter in and swirl to coat. Pour ~1/4 of the batter into the pan and swirl, making a thin coating of batter. Cook a few minutes or less, until the edges curl up and batter-bubbles turn golden brown. Flip and cook the other side, ~30 seconds. Repeat with remaining batter, adding extra butter between crepes as needed to prevent sticking.

If you have a large group to feed, turn the oven to warm and stack crepes on a plate until ready to serve.

Serve crepes topped with butter and sugar or with whipped cream and a drizzle of Baileys. And don't forget the Irish coffee! Slainte!