Reason for Thanks: A Classic Gravy, Brussel Sprouts and Parsnip Chips

There are so many reasons to be thankful this year.

A new president. A new president I like and like to listen to. And this year, we have so many friends who've come back to the Bay Area, plus of course, the fabulous food. So by the time we dug out from under the election melee and moved into menu planning for T-Day, all I could think of was how much better life is looking, despite all the bad news from economic sectors and from India.

Here's a sample of our menu for this year.

We were welcomed again this year at the immaculate house of the Pajama Queen and Mr. Tarte Tatin, for which I was heartily grateful, as our numbers have swelled from eight to twelve.

We have a lot of talented cooks on the list though as the photos below will attest.

For my part I made the dressings again, including a Focaccia Chanterelle dressing made with dry vermouth because I forgot to get a dry white wine. I also made the usual sausage and raisin dressing which is one of my favorites.

I also contributed a braised brussel sprouts recipe that was the epitome of the phrase "work around." It was meant to be Caramelized Brussels and Chestnuts a la Martha Stewart. But shelled chestnuts were not to be found (I hate shelling chestnuts) save in one place where we saw a jar for $19. I balked. I don't need to pay nearly $20 for chestnuts. We'd do something else, I said.

I have inadvertently bought three leeks (to replace an onion) in the turkey stock recipe and then put in the onion by mistake. So I sliced up all those leeks and we added some cider vinegar and cooked the heck out of them. I was against serving them because they looked just terribly overcooked and grey, but everyone seemed to like them, so here forthwith is the recipe. You don't need to cook the brussels for so long, they'll keep that nice bright green color better if you don't go too long.

Braised Brussels and Leeks

1 stick butter
2 lbs brussel sprouts, cut into quarters lengthwise
3 small leeks, slice across midsection

1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup vegetable broth
1/4 cup sugar

Pour the butter in a large skillet or sauteuse and heat over medium. When it's hot, add in brussels and leeks and cooks for a few minutes until the brussels begin to brown. in the mean time, mid vinegar, broth and sugar. Stir into the vegetables and let cook until the brussels are still crisp but cooked thoroughly.

Ms. Art Attack and Mr. Art Attack provided the spread of hos d'oeuvres or as she likes to say, "whores-dervishes."

Pictured here are (from left to right) Pond-Hopper cheese, Montgomery Cheddar from Neal's Yard, Lamb Chopper, Midnight Moon and on the green plate, a Cowgirl Pierce Point, along with a selection of olives, nuts and fig paste.

Potato Kale soup from the Madonna-with-Poodle and the FANTABULOUS fan rolls from Mr. Bunyup who also provided us with Pumpkin pie and his oft-requested (by me!) Apple Pie, which has a fantastic gentle aroma of spices.

I don't think of us as terribly traditional types, really, but when it comes to T-day there are certain proprieties that must be observed. Things really aren't right, for instance, if we don't have The Good Boy's Southern style sweet potatoes with the essential browned and crispy toasted marshmallow topping.

Beyond these non-negotiable traditional elements though, there's always room for experiments. This year, we got the biggest dayboat scallops you've ever seen in your life from Swan's Oyster Depot, and My Omnivore made some of his Maple-Smoked Seared Scallops as an appetizer, which I augmented with a scattering of homemade Parsnip, Red and Gold Beet Chips. (See below for recipe) And Devushka, fresh from St. Petersburg, contributed a delightfully crisp Green Bean Almondine along with deadly pecan pie that I couldn't help sneaking bites of throughout last night and this morning.

As to wine, Mon Oncle Sumi (who sadly informed us that Ma Tante Sumi is closing next week!!) brought us a fantastic selection, as did Steamboat Willie, who brought along a pair of Byingtons to add to our bamboozled potpourri. My personal contribution was a bottle of Le Snoot, which we found for $4.99 at (no joke) the place where you can buy wine that's fallen off the back of a truck or been in a train accident. Strangely that bottle never got opened last night.

In the NY Times last week, Julia Moskin put together the case for a terrific homemade gravy. I can't emphasize enough though, that the only thing that matters is a good stock. We've made quite acceptable gravies with pre-fab stock, in fact our vegetarian option this year was made with store-bought vegetable stock. But for SPECTACULAR gravy--the best kind-- homemade stock is the only way. It's not hard, it just takes time and planning. Start a few days ahead because you can always freeze the stock and then use it to make up the actual gravy later.

The Best Homemade Turkey Gravy

4 tablespoons butter and 2 Tbsp olive oil
5 lbs turkey necks (you can also use legs and wings, but necks give the most flavor)
Salt and black pepper
1 medium onion, peeled and stuck with 3 cloves
3 large carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks
3 stalks celery with leaves, trimmed and cut into large chunks
2 bay leaves
12 black peppercorns
1 cup dry vermouth

FOR THE GRAVY:
12 tablespoons ( 3/4 cup) all-purpose flour
Salt and black pepper.

(To left, the elusive "Loch Ness Poodle")
To make the stock, Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Melt 4 tablespoons butter and mix with olive oil. Sprinkle the turkey necks with salt and pepper, place in roasting pan and brush with melted butter. Roast 2 hours, basting with butter and oil every half hour.

(Return of the "Loch Ness Poodle.")
Transfer roasted turkey to a stockpot and set the roasting pan aside. Add onion, carrots, celery, bay leaves and peppercorns to stockpot. Add cold water until there is 1 inch of water covering the vegetables and turkey, bring to a simmer and cook, slightly uncovered, about 6 hours. Check it to make sure that the simmer is low and small bubbles are apparent.

In the mean time, place roasting pan on top of stove and bring juices to a simmer over low heat. Pour in vermouth or wine, stirring and scraping to bring up browned bits. (If using wine, simmer at least 5 minutes.) Pour all the liquid into a bowl and refrigerate. When the deglazing liquid is cool, lift off the top layer of fat and reserve. Add the deglazing liquid to stockpot.

After six hours, the entire house should smell great, and the stock should be golden and flavorful. Strain--using a chinois preferably--into a large container and refrigerate. When the stock is cool, lift off the fat and mix it with reserved fat from deglazing liquid. Reserve 3 quarts stock for gravy and refrigerate or freeze the rest for another use.

To make the gravy, in a deep skillet or large heavy pot, melt 12 tablespoons ( 3/4 cup) reserved turkey fat over medium heat. If you do not have enough turkey fat, use additional butter to make 3/4 cup. Gradually whisk in the flour. Cook, whisking, until golden brown and toasty-smelling, 3 to 5 minutes or longer for darker gravy. Personally we prefer the darker, more flavorful roux.

Whisk a small amount of stock into the roux (this prevents lumps), then add the remainder more quickly and whisk until smooth. Simmer, continually whisking, until it thickens. If it becomes too thick, thin with more stock or a little wine and simmer briefly. Season with salt and pepper and lemon juice if needed. If desired, whisk in a few tablespoons cold butter to smooth and enrich gravy.

"Hey, it ain't gourmet if all you did was open a bag of taro chips!" Ms. Art Attack jibed down the Thanksgiving Day table.

"I made very single one of them lovingly by hand," came our riposte. And it's true. To go with Eric's fantastic Maple-Smoked Seared Scallops, this time we scattered the plate with parsnip and beet chips for a little salty crunch against the sweet dayboats.

Parsnip and Beet Chips

1 large parsnip, peeled
1 large golden beet, peeled
1 large red beet, peeled
canola oil for frying
sea salt to taste

Using a vegetable peeler, peel thin ribbons off the parsnips lengthwise.

In a heavy medium-sized pot, heat 2 inches of oil over medium high heat.

When the oil is hot, drop in one ribbon. If it immediately bubbles, then the oil is ready.

Fry the parsnips first, then the golden beets, then the red beets (The beets will discolor the oil). Fry them in small batches for about 60 seconds or until golden brown and the bubbling has subsided. Remove them to a large plate lined with paper towels. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt to taste.

Repeat with remaining ribbons until you have fried all the batches.

Wild Turkeys

Like many of us, I suspect, I've always pictured turkeys the way they look on the posters that school-kids tape to the bulletin boards or on the line art on a frozen turkey label. Slow, pudgy and waddling.

Sure, I've seen "1776," so I know Ben Franklin suggested that a turkey is a noble bird --a better choice even than an eagle for the symbol of this nation. As Ben said in his letter to his daughter, "For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America . . . He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on."

Sure, Ben, I thought.

That was until I got to see a wild turkey up close on our recent trip to the Russian River area. We stopped into Farmer Dave's house to get some fresh eggs and on the way out, we were were pulled up short by a small flock of wild turkeys lazily ambling across the road.

How cool is that?

Surprisingly, wild turkeys are really elegant looking birds--and they're BIG. Really big. No, really, REALLY big. Like, I-wouldn't-want-to-meet-a-gang-of-them-alone-on-a-dark-country-road big.

Apparently they'll grow up to 4 feet tall. And they're coming for you in the suburbs....

Michele Anna Jordan of the Press Democrat said in a recent blog post: "As I write, there are about a dozen wild turkeys walking on the roof of the barn outside my little study in west Sebastopol. A few dozen more are on the other side of the house, nibbling herbs and what is left of the white Alpine strawberries they think of as their own."

We stopped the car and got out for a look. The turkeys didn't seem to be in the least threatened. One paused and sized us up, and then ambled on with his pals into the next field.

"Wow," quoth I," I guess they'll be in trouble come Thanksgiving, though."

"I don't think so," replied my Omnivore. "Those wild turkeys are smarter than we are. I doubt anyone can even get close to them."

I think of them now as the national turkey slaughter begins and to be perfectly honest, I'm still kinda pulling for the turkeys.

How to Make Vanilla Extract

I love a good tip... from Simply Recipes: How to Make Vanilla Extract
Some vodka, you say? And some vanilla beans???

Teensy Kitchens of the World Unite!

Looks like Mark Bittman has a kitchen as small as our own! No wodner he's the Minimalist.

More from Bittman in an interview at the Well Blog:

I got a bunch of e-mails that say, “Can you believe all this stuff about your crummy kitchen?” But the whole idea is that you don’t need a fancy kitchen. You don’t need fancy equipment, and you don’t need fancy recipes. When I show people my kitchen, they believe it. But I hate my kitchen also. I bump my shins on the dishwasher. There is not enough room to put stuff. It’s a terrible stove. It’s a terrible dishwasher. I don’t have room for the pots I’d like to have. I’ve cooked in much worse, though. I’m used to it. Someday I’ll grow up and get a real kitchen.

...

I think part of me likes the inadequacy of it. There’s some pride involved. But people come in and can’t talk to you when you’re in the kitchen. There’s no room for two people to cook. It’s not really a galley kitchen. It’s about 7 feet wide and 8 feet long. It has that beautiful window in it, which makes things much nicer. The sad thing is the lack of storage and lack of counter space. I could live with everything else, but that stuff is what drives me bats. It’s definitely not ideal, but great things can be done.

Snickerdoodling back to reality

Okay, I've been away too long -- it was the election. It subsumed my life.

But now, what do you know? It's a lovely day (even though it was cold and gray today) life is beautiful and I'm craving Snickerdoodles.

We have my Omnivore's Mom to thank for this recipe, which makes 5 dozen cookies, but can be doubled or tripled to make an insane amount of cookies. (Can you "Church Bake Sale"?) Don't laugh. When you try these you'll wish you made the maximum number.Mom has charming stories of the constant stream of neighborhood kids who would troop in her front door, bee-line through the kitchen, grab as many as could possibly fit between thumb and forefinger -- like expert poker players handling a stack of chips-- and continue without pause out the back door. Occasionally, they were even accompanied by members of the family.

Oh they're so yummy.

Mom's Snickerdoodles

(Says Mom: I always told my kids that they had to laugh a little when they ate these cookies-just a little snicker or two-but it was required. Ha-ha.)

Cream together: ( X2) (X3)
1 cup soft shortening (part butter) (2) (3)
1 and 1/2 cups sugar (3) (4 1/2)
2 eggs (4) (6)

1 T. vanilla (2 T.) (3 T.)

Mix together and then add dry ingredients:
2 3/4 cups flour (5 1/2) (8 1/4)
2 tsp. cream of tartar (4) (6)
1 tsp. soda (2) ( 3)
1/4 tsp. Salt (1/2) (3/4)

Roll dough into balls the size of small walnuts. (Approximately a teaspoon of dough)

Roll balls in a mixture of 2 T. sugar and 2 tsp. cinnamon.

Place on cookie sheet and bake at 400 degrees for about 8-10 minutes. Cookies will puff up and then flatten as they cool. I try very hard not to overbake cookies, so I remove them just a tad on the early side. You want them to be lightly browned but still soft.

Makes about 5 dozen 2-inch cookies.