Thanksgiving dinner: A lesson in being flexible
This year, my husband and I are invited to join friends at their home for Thanksgiving. I love gathering together, sharing food and friendship. But the downside is… no leftovers to take home. After all, for some of us, turkey casserole or soup the following day is as much a part of Thanksgiving as anything.
So in order to have my own leftovers for my post-Thanksgiving casserole in my freezer, I decided to write about “Thanksgiving for Two.” My plan was that I would dry brine and cook a turkey breast instead of a whole turkey.
The endaisle freezer at the grocery store was brimming with 25-pound frozen turkeys. But, luckily for me, there was also a good number of turkey breasts which were between 7 and 8 pounds. So I bought a turkey breast for this article, but much to my surprise, when I had defrosted it and opened the packaging, I found it was not a turkey breast at all. I was confused and dumbfounded trying to figure out what I was looking at in the colander in my sink.
And then it hit me. I was looking at a tiny 7-pound turkey.
I had not planned to cook an actual turkey, and I had even already prepared the dry brine for the turkey breast. And who ever heard of a 7-pound turkey? But then I wondered: What if this had happened on actual Thanksgiving, instead of a week earlier? I wouldn’t have time to return to the store and buy another, let alone defrost it in time for dinner.
Sometimes, the best laid plans just go awry. My kitchen emergency, while disconcerting at first, taught me a lesson in flexibility. I, too, didn’t have time to return to the store if I were to make my deadline. I decided the Universe had spoken. This was my task, and I needed to figure out how to make it work.
While I would have preferred the luxury of turkey breast meat in my freezer for my post-Thanksgiving turkey casserole, I knew I had to make do with what I had. And that meant adapting my menu to accommodate this “minor” little change.
So on to the preparation, which I deduced would work just as well for a whole turkey as it would for a turkey breast: brining. In recent years, this method of prep has become wildly popular, and for good reason. The several-hour brining period allows the salt and other seasonings to penetrate deep into the flesh for a moister and more flavorful result. But there are two methods for brining: wet or dry.
Most recipes for a wet brine involve a ratio of about 1 cup of salt to 1 gallon of water, sometimes adding an array of seasonings for a particular flavor, and refrigerating the whole thing for 12-24 hours. You remove the meat from the brine, dry it with paper towels, and proceed with cooking it. I, however, do not have the refrigerator space to wet-brine a turkey, big or small.
On the other hand, a dry brine requires far less space — just that of a pan large enough to hold your bird. Basically, you create a mixture of salt, pepper, brown sugar and herbs, spread all over the bird, and refrigerate it uncovered overnight. At first, the salt mixture draws the moisture from the flesh. Then, after a few hours, the process is reversed as the seasonings and juices are drawn back into the bird, which ensures really moist meat and extra crispy skin. No water needed.
So, I hoped that the technique would adapt to a turkey just as well as to a breast. After smothering the baby turkey inside and out with the savory holiday seasonings, I refrigerated it overnight. When I removed it the next morning to put it on a rack in a clean roasting pan, I noted that the flesh of the bird had turned a deep pink, and looked ready for roasting. I draped a butter-soaked cheesecloth over the whole adorable little turkey before I popped it in the oven. This eliminates any need for basting. Then I set my timer. A bird this small takes about two hours to cook, around the same amount of time as a turkey breast. Easy peasy.
However, a Thanksgiving dinner in miniature has other challenges. Rather than cook a dozen side dishes, I decided on just two. But I think this menu hits all the holiday flavor high notes, perfect for a small gathering.
In the first dish, I use several harvest ingredients, which grace most Thanksgiving tables. Colorful sliced baked sweet potatoes, crisp apples and fresh cranberries are layered in a gratin dish and then brushed with a bourbon-maple glaze before baking.
But here, too, I discovered that flexibility is key. When I baked the sweet potatoes, I accidentally overcooked them. They turned out much softer than I had intended. So I cut a slit in the skins and let them cool completely. Then I carefully removed the skins and sliced them with a bread wknife with the hope they would hold together. Instead of alternating sweet potatoes with the apples, I attractively arranged the sweet potatoes over a layer of apples, scattered the cranberries and drizzled the bourbon-maple sauce over the top. The result? Fantastic. No one would have been the wiser.
And for the second side, rather than regular potatoes, I got out all the tender baby turnips left from the farmers market that were still in my crisper. I braised them on top of the stove with butter and a little bit of sugar, until they cooked through and developed a golden glaze. For extra color and flavor, I realized after the fact that I could have added a pound of Brussels sprouts or sprinkled the finished dish with cooked bacon. Oh well. Maybe next year. The turnips are still great prepared simply, just like this.
Had this been an actual Thanksgiving dinner, I would have been grateful that my guests never suspected the accommodations I made to avoid my kitchen “disaster.” Although they may have been suspicious about the tiny turkey that graced the table.
I hope all of you have a happy, disaster-free, Thanksgiving!