A Turkey Tale, Part 2

I got up early Thanksgiving morning to make the dressing and bake the pumpkin pie.

I put the neck and gizzard into my small slow cooker with some water to make a stock for the gravy. By this time, I’d decided to just cut the turkey in half from head to tail and freeze one side. Figuring from the recipe I was using, I calculated that a 16-pound turkey was supposed to be done in 2.25 hours. If dinner was at 6:00, and the turkey needed a half hour rest, plus some extra time for the extra thickness, I thought that starting at 2:00 would give me enough time.

Before Terry went out for the morning to putter in his shop, we agreed that we would cut the turkey at 10:00. I went up to check on the turkey after breakfast. The ice had melted, as I expected. What I hadn’t considered is that the volume would also decrease. The breast meat was above the brine. Why had I thought it was more important for the back to be brine than the breast? Feeling stupid, I flipped the turkey over so the breast could sit in the brine for a few hours.

The turkey, wrong side up in the cooler

At 9:45, I moved my parents’ car out of the garage and set up a table. I went back downstairs to get a tray, a cutting board, my butcher knife, and the kitchen shears. When I returned, Terry was draining the brine into two 5-gallon buckets.

Terry draining the brine

I was pretty sure Terry would have to get out the reciprocating saw that he uses when we cut up half a pig. But he just said, “Gimme the knife.”

He put the tip of the knife into the breast bone and used it as a fulcrum to hack through the ribs. The pelvis took more effort, but he managed to rend it asunder. I held the two halves apart while he cut through the ventral side.

Terry whacks his way through the ribs while I hold the two halves apart

Half the turkey in a tray

Hilda and I wrapped one half up to the best of our ability and put it in a garbage bag (the only bag big enough for it). I cleared out a space for it in the freezer. I put the other half on the roasting rack that I had prepared by covering with non-stick foil. Thanksgiving is not a good time to think about sustainability. The turkey didn’t quite fit in my largest roasting pan. I would have to put a half sheet pan underneath to catch drips. I put the turkey in the spare refrigerator to develop a pellicle until it was time to put it in the oven.

Half the turkey crammed onto my largest roasting pan

I gave the turkey a butter massage at 1:30 and left it at room temperature while the oven came up to temperature. Once the turkey was in the oven, I had some time to relax. Terry and I watched football. The temperature probe beeped at 4:30, right on schedule. I pulled the turkey out and checked the position of the probe. Almost immediately, I found a spot closer to the bone where the temperature dropped 20 degrees. I’ve never really believed in “carry over cooking,” and even if I did, 20 degrees would be stretching it. Back into the oven.

Jane arrived at 5:00 to make the gravy. The turkey still wasn’t done. We decided it was close enough at 5:15. I moved it to the cutting board and covered it with foil. 

The cooked turkey on the cutting board

Jane got to work making the flour and water slurry and stirring it into the pan drippings. When the roux was complete, I began ladling in the hot stock. We ended up with 6 cups of gravy. Well, you can’t have too much gravy, right? There’s always the leftovers.

Jane stirring the gravy

Upstairs, Hilda made mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts braised in cream and topped with bread crumbs, Parmesan cheese, and red pepper flakes. She also baked the dressing.

I carved the turkey, leaving the less-than-completely-cooked meat on the bone. It would cook when I made the stock later. Right at 6:00, we were ready to sit down at table. Terry poured champagne all around.

The carved turkey

Plates and glasses full, ready to eat

Was the turkey better than usual? It seemed like it. It was very moist and flavorful, but that might have been because we earned it. In any case, we all thoroughly enjoyed it. Hilda had a little remorse. I was just mad at Jake for being so impossibly large.

We needed a rest before dessert. We discussed watching a video or playing a game, but in the end, we opened a bottle of wine and just talked. I got to thinking about the mess in my kitchen and excused myself. I pulled the cooked meat off the carcass and put it in the refrigerator. The rest went into the big slow cooker. I’d let that cook all day Friday. I washed everything that would come clean and set the roasting pan to soak. I went back upstairs and finished my wine.

We had the pie with real whipped cream. So decadent, so delicious.

Pumpkin pie

We divided up the leftovers. There was lots of just shoving things in refrigerators. Tomorrow was another day. Call me Scarlett.

Friday afternoon, we went to pick up the frozen hens. They weighed in at 20.5 and 22 pounds.

The jennies--22 and 20.5 pounds

I rearranged freezers and shoved things aside so that the two hens and the remains of Jake were stacked in one column. I could tell that the second half of Jake would have to be cooked sooner rather than later. I will soon tire of it being in my way every time I need something out of the freezer.

Hilda and I cleaned out Coop 2 Saturday morning, the nicest day of the weekend. Even so, I didn’t expect to work up a sweat while I was scrubbing. It was in the 40’s, and we were spraying water everywhere. Nevertheless, I got quite warm in the process and wished I hadn’t worn my (newly washed) winter work coat. With this, the very last act of fall, we were done with our outside work for the year. The harvest was over. We will hunker down now and eat what we have stored.

That afternoon, I took the fat off the top of the stock and divided it and leftover meat into three containers for soup. I made two dinner portions of turkey and gravy and split the dressing into three parts. Somehow, I found room in the freezers.

Tonight we had spaghetti marinara for supper. I just couldn’t look at meat.