Leftover Days That Follow

Posted byNancy Taylor RobsonPosted inSunday Cooking

While I love the meal of Turkey Day – mash, gravy stuffing, what’s not to love? – I actually like the days that follow more.  The meal itself, fairly hidebound in tradition, offers limited scope for creativity, but the day after, you can have at it with abandon. It’s like the difference between a formal ball and a hoedown.

The possibilities with leftover turkey are almost endless:  hot curried turkey salad, cold turkey salad with scallions, apples, toasted walnuts and celery, turkey croquettes with mornay sauce, plain old turkey sandwiches with a big slathering of garlic mayo on rye bread with sliced sweet onion and a beer (Dogfish Head Raison D’Etre), turkey and mushroom crepes with thyme, sautéed shallots and smoked gouda sauce, turkey wraps with lettuce, scallion, avocado and chipotle sauce, turkey tetrazinni, turkey pot pie and turkey soup.

This year, I must confess, that my turkey, stuffed and roasted (of COURSE with the stuffing inside the bird, we did it for years and no one has died of it yet!) wasn’t that great.  I don’t know whether it was the bird, which was free-range, organic, local and fresh, hitting all the foodie hot buttons, simply wasn’t flavorful. OR, whether I simply didn’t do enough to help it along. My sister-in-law’s turkey ( see previous post) was superb, flavorful, crisp-skinned, moist and absolutely delicious, was brined and fretted-over, so maybe I need to do some brining and more fretting for the next bird.

My sister-in-law, who flies out tomorrow, was handing over leftovers like door prizes as we walked out the door last night. Matt got the turkey carcass and gravy. With that, he will make one heck-of-a-stock. Which should always be the first order of culinary business the day after Thanksgiving.

To make stock, take whatever remains of the truly useable meat off the bone and throw the carcass into a big stockpot with every odd little bit of meat, skin, bone and fond (the gorgeously flavorful bits stuck to the bottom of the roasting pan that you get out with a little boiling water and wooden scraper) including the wing tips, and some leftover gravy.  Throw in carrots, celery, onion, a leek if you’ve got it, parsley, thyme, a sage leaf and plenty of water. Simmer it for a couple of aromatic hours on the back of the stove. (Want to sell your house? Have a pot of stock simmering when potential buyers arrive. Who can resist a house that already smells like home?).

Then, once the stock is going, assess. How much meat is left and in what configuration? Plenty of thin slices?  Perfect for turkey reubens, wraps, turkey sandwiches with cranberry chutney on whole grain bread, turkey-and-bacon club sandwiches, turkey and wild rice salad with nuts and dried apricots lightly doused with orange-and-mustard vinaigrette.

Little bits of wing meat, the oysters off the back and maybe some streamers of thigh in the bottom of the pan?  Turkey hash with finely chopped sautéed potatoes, sweet peppers and onion, maybe a little cayenne and a fried egg on top. Or curried turkey ragout with sautéed onion, celery, carrot, potato with peas added at the last minute, seasoned with curry and Worcestershire. For wonderfully retro croquettes, chop turkey very fine, grate some onion, and wrap it in a stiff béchamel made with a little milk and turkey broth. Shape them into patties or the classic little anthill-shaped mounds, roll them in bread or cracker crumbs and fry in a little oil. Dress them up with mornay sauce (thin béchamel/broth with grated gruyere and maybe a splash of white wine). Or use virtually the same beginnings and turn it into a turkey soufflé.

If there are bigger pieces, something that can be cut into chunks, it’s turkey salad of some kind – hot and curried with French’s Fried Onion Rings, almonds, water chestnuts and yogurt/mayo dressing, or cold salad with toasted nuts, parsley, apples, grapes and scallions dressed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil.

But my favorite, I think, is turkey pot pie. I do a fairly classic version, adding flavor not by adding tons of salt but by cooking the vegetables in rich turkey stock seasoned with celery tops, thyme and tarragon. After straining out the barely-tender veggies, I thicken the vegetable-and-herb-infused broth slightly to make the sauce. I usually buy the crust, since I can’t make one any better than Pillsbury.

Yet even with a store-bought crust, there’s something distinctly comforting about pot pie.  It catapults me back to childhood, to a time when it felt like the world was filled with attainable riches. A good life could be had in exchange for effort and an appreciation of the simple pleasures.

Served on a Friday evening by the fire, turkey pot pie is the reassuringly low-key end to a fraught week. Brought to a candlelit table, its crust the golden color of a beach at dusk, the juices just starting to rise up and drip tantalizingly down the side, and banked by a good sauvignon blanc, it’s downright elegant.

Turkey Pot Pie

1 pie crust

1 cup cooked turkey, cubed

¾ cup carrots, sliced

¾ cup onions, chopped

¾ cup potatoes, cubed

1 cup frozen peas

¼ tsp dried tarragon

¼ tsp dried or fresh thyme

1 ½ cups rich turkey stock

4 tblsp corn starch dissolved in 4 tblsp cool water

salt and pepper to taste

Cook the carrots, potatoes and onions in the turkey stock gently until barely fork tender. Dip out the vegetables and put into a casserole or soufflé dish along with the frozen peas and the cubed turkey. Lightly salt and pepper the veggies and meat. Taste the stock for seasoning. Put thyme and tarragon in the stock and bring to the boil. Dissolve the cornstarch in the cool water, and whisk into the boiling stock. It should thicken and turn clear in a matter of a moment. Once it’s thick and clear not cloudy, pour over the vegetables and meat. Top with a crust. Put a few slits in the crust. (As one of the characters in the John Wayne movie, The Cowboys, said: Cut three slits in the top –two to let out the steam and one more because your mama said so).  Bake at 375F for 35 minutes or until the crust is browned and completely done.

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Turkey-Potpie-with-Cheddar-Biscuit-Crust-240566

http://www.hellmanns.us/promotions/therealfoodproject/recipe_collection.aspx?Category=SandwichesWraps

http://www.hellmanns.us/promotions/therealfoodproject/recipe_detail.aspx?recipeid=11641&version=1

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/michael-chiarello/next-day-turkey-soup-recipe/index.html

Published by Nancy Taylor Robson

I grew up sailing and building boats with my dad, married a tugboat captain, (who I'm still happily married to) and embarked on a life of adventure, challenge and fun. My first book, Woman in the Wheelhouse, told the sometimes harrowing story of working on an old coastal tugboat as cook/deckhand then worked in Mexico in the Campeche oil fields on a supply boat. I was one of the first women in the country to earn a tug operator's license. I'm the author of three other books, Course of the Waterman, which won the Fred Bonnie Prize for the novel, the historical novel, A Love Like No Other: Abigail and John Adams, A Modern Love Story, and OK Now What? A Caregiver's Guide to What Matters, which I wrote with longtime RN and hospice nurse, Sue Collins during the time my mother-in-law was moving to the end of her life. My second, Course of the Waterman, the coming of age novel of a young Eastern Shore waterman, won the Fred Bonnie award in 2004. My third book, second novel, A Love Like No Other: Abigail and John Adams, A Modern Love Story, takes readers into the lives of the new nation's strong-willed second First Lady and her stubborn, often-absent and adored husband, John, our second US President. I wrote the book because I'd spent big chunks of time raising children alone while my husband was at sea and felt an affinity for Abigail, but also looked to her life as a MUCH bigger challenge that informed and encouraged my own. My fourth book, OK Now What? A Caregiver's Guide to What Matters (Head to Wind Publishing, 2014) was written in collaboration with Sue Collins, RN and longtime hospice nurse and has received heartwarming feedback on how helpful it's been to many caregivers. A freelance writer for many years, I've published personal essays, features, maritime reporting and analysis, travel, garden and more for such places as The Washington Post, Yachting, House Beautiful, The Baltimore Sun, the Christian Science Monitor, Southern Living, Sailing, and more. I'm also a University of Maryland Master Gardener who grows and cans the family's fruits and vegetables, and a Bay-Wise program certifier. I write, sail, race sailboats (occasionally), walk the German Shepherd dogs, and cook for friends and family.

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