Turkey sandwiches, as you please
My dad always said that the best part of a turkey was nibbling the crisp, fatty bits of skin that fell off his knife as he carved. The turkey sandwiches the next day were the second best part.
Sure, he’d say, a plate of dark meat and gravy was all well and good. But those quiet minutes standing in front of the bird – either carving it while it was still hot and glistening, or picking cold meat off the carcass to nestle between slices of bread – were some of the moments he treasured most.
His sandwiches were straightforward affairs: bread (his homemade anadama), mayo, cranberry sauce, turkey. Maybe a little mustard or sliced onion, but never any stuffing, which he said diluted the pungency of the bird that he’d slathered in garlic and rosemary before roasting.
I agree with him about the joys of crisp bits of turkey skin. But when it comes to the sandwiches, I go my own way, mixing it up year after year.
The only thing that remains constant in my turkey sandwiches – other than the turkey – is using some kind of pickle to perk things up. Turkey can often be gentle and appreciates that hit of salty acid.
So it’s no surprise that pickles feature prominently in these three sandwich recipes.
This turkey barbecue sandwich includes pickles and slaw.
When I graduated from college and started working, I was completely overwhelmed. Learning the unwritten rules of a new job, trying to make friends in a new city, AND coming home and cooking a homemade meal every night was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. So, I came up with a few ground rules for cooking:
Five ingredients or fewer. I don’t have the patience or counter space to make a recipe that requires 189 different ingredients that I’ll inevitably end up only using once.
Three prep dishes or fewer. I firmly believe that a recipe is only as good as the clean-up process. Food is good, but is it worth waking up the next morning to realize that a tornado hit your sink?
Accessibility and affordability. I must be able to find all components of the recipe at a regular grocery store for a reasonable price. Don’t send me across town.
Thirty minutes or less. Learning how to navigate a kitchen is scary enough. I need a recipe to be complete, start to finish, in the time it takes to listen to seven Taylor Swift songs.
Shortly after I created this list, a friend introduced me to Sheet Pan Dinners. The concept of cooking everything on one baking sheet for 30 minutes changed my life. There are so many combinations you can make, but this honey mustard chicken is my favorite. It’s the perfect recipe for a busy weeknight, or for entertaining friends. When they ask you if it was easy to make, you can answer honestly: yes!
The key to this recipe is using skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs. Don’t be afraid of skin — it keeps the chicken juicy and tender, while adding a delicious crunch and flavor. Yes, you can make this with boneless, skinless chicken breasts, or even drumsticks, but thighs work best. I promise.
Heat the oven to 350, line a large baking sheet with foil and place the chicken thighs on it. I line my baking sheets with foil for easy clean-up (read: I don’t want to spend my time hunched over my sink scrubbing my baking sheet). To create the sauce, whisk together the melted butter, honey and Dijon mustard. Season the chicken thighs with salt and pepper on both sides. With a spoon, cover the thighs with the honey mustard sauce. Save any leftover sauce to pour over the chicken after it is cooked. Bake for about 30 minutes. Enjoy on a bed of rice with greens for a no-frills meal.
Yield: Serves four.