Posts Tagged ‘thanksgiving’

Pecan pie and a Boulevardier cocktail, more good things for Thanksgiving

9 December 2022

Yesterday I wrote about some disasters of our Thanksgiving meal, one perfect exception — the stuffing —, and a few other good things. I alluded to a pecan pie, and, despite the photo, quite forgot to mention the cocktail, which we sipped late into the night long after the last guests had left and the dishes were all washed. I am using this as a reminder for next year.

Photo by Thomas

Note number one: Premix the Boulevardiers

When friends arrive mid-afternoon, is it too early to start mixing bourbon? Absolutely not! I hear you whisper, and I am listening. Yet our habitual scenario is to start mildly with beer and wine. Too often we miss the moment. Next time a carafe of Boulevardiers will simply be ready — regardless of Helen Rosner’s injunction to “[not] make this ahead of time; the flavors soften and blur as they rest.” Better a lightly melded cocktail, then none at all.

Boulevardier recipe
It is often described as a variation on a negroni — the classic version of which is equal parts gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari — in which the gin is substituted for bourbon or rye whiskey. Many recipes recommend a higher proportion of whiskey.

1 to 2 oz of bourbon or rye — whiskey choice and proportion both according to individual taste
1 oz sweet vermouth
1 oz Campari
Orange or lemon peel to garnish

Add all the ingredients (except the peel) to a mixing glass filled with ice. Stir well until chilled.

Strain into a chilled coupe or cocktail glass, or over ice into a rocks glass.

Squeeze and drop the citrus peel into the glass.

Note number two: A very good pecan pie

I was relying on Balthasar to make our best, award-winning pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. But on Wednesday evening, as we settled into the kitchen — Thomas for his now traditional cranberry curd pie, and I with the intention of gaining a head start on some prep for the next day — Balthasar was nowhere around and the promise of pumpkin pie soon evaporated.

Panic.

Thanksgiving cannot happen without either pumpkin or pecan pie. One may be enough but they cannot both be absent. And pecan is quicker.

After frantically tracing emails back a decade looking for a friend’s mum’s recipe (I didn’t find it), I went straight to Smitten Kitchen — a site I’ve always followed but if I’m honest have only rarely cooked from, though, always, cake! Reliably, I found an ideal recipe.

Here is the direct link to Smitten Kitchen’s excellent pecan pie .

And now I am very much looking forward to next year’s Thanksgiving!

‘Valeryn Monroe’ turkey stuffing

8 December 2022

Thursday 8 December

It has taken me two weeks to accept all that went wrong with my Thanksgiving meal. Don’t misunderstand, it was a very fun evening, with old friends with whom we’ve celebrated often, and new close friends too.

So I will try not to dwell too long on the — culinary — disappointments. But, the turkey was much too … big. I prayed it would fit in the oven. It did, though barely, firmly wedged against the oven walls on either side, and then, somewhat inexplicably, cooked so fast that it was barely rescued from the dismal precipice of looming dryness. The gravy was a bit of a disaster and I will ascribe that to my stubborn reluctance towards gravy in general. The vegetables — overcooked. Perhaps we were having too much of a good time in the kitchen. The celeriac mash, often an astonishing highlight, lacked depth. Thomas refused to add more potatoes ! He berates me for not delegating enough in the kitchen and then he doesn’t follow instructions !!

But there were highlights, too. The cranberry lime sauce that electrifies the plate. The many cakes, which were delicious (plus another walnut cake on which more later).

And then there was the stuffing.

It was amazing.

Neither the name (a combination of me and Marilyn Monroe. Ha!) nor the idea are mine. Each fourth Thursday of November messages swish across borders and continents with the friends with whom we have celebrated over the years. A barely nostalgic, wonderfully sappy love fest of Thanksgiving greetings and recollections.

Last year I received this message:

“We made a ‘Valeryn Monroe’ stuffing — a hybrid of your Apple-Chestnut-Bacon recipe, with some ingredients from the Marilyn Monroe stuffing: liver, chopped celery and spices. A nice fusion.”

Understatement.

What a genius idea, I took note and kept it in mind for this time. I searched for Marilyn Monroe’s stuffing recipe (?!), incidentally also a good story, and followed my friend’s suggestion for the mash-up. It solves any weaknesses my traditional stuffing might have had: namely its want of celery, and offal.

This version is so great, it will certainly become the standard.

And so we concentrate on the good things.

I will be making duck for Christmas, but should you be planning turkey, this stuffing is, unequivocally, the best.

Valeryn Monroe’ stuffing

Olive oil or, ideally, duck fat
200g pancetta, ideally sliced paper thin
4 to 5 red onions, sliced into half moons
4 to 5 stalks of celery (reserve the leaves), sliced into 3-4 cm pieces
4 to 5 tart apples, peeled, quartered, and each quarter cut in half crosswise
400g cooked chestnuts
Liver from the turkey (or about 75g to 100g chicken livers)
Large bunch of parsley, washed and leaves plucked
Sage leaves, washed, stalks removed
A good handful of leaves from the celery stalks
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 tsp mace (not essential but a nice touch)

A large, heavy cast-iron skillet (frying pan) is ideal to prepare the stuffing though any large skillet will do.

Heat a little olive oil (or duck fat) in the skillet and cook the thin slices of pancetta in batches until just crispy. Remove from the skillet (leaving the fat!) and set on a paper-towel lined plate.

Add a little oil/duck fat if necessary and cook the sliced onions, stirring occasionally, until soft and turning golden at the edges. Season with a good pinch of salt. Remove from the skillet and put them into a large bowl.

Add a little more oil/duck fat and cook the celery, stirring regularly, until it starts to soften. Season with a pinch of salt and add to the bowl of onions.

Again, add some oil/duck fat and cook the apples, stirring occasionally, until nicely browned on more than one side. Remove from the skillet and add them to the bowl.

Same thing for the chestnuts: add a little oil/fat in the skillet and brown the chestnuts (which are already cooked), until they become a little crispy. Crumble the chestnuts, creating bits of different sizes, and add those to the bowl too.

Finally, add some fat and cook the liver(s). This goes very fast, it should remain just pink inside.

On a cutting board, chop up the liver and the bacon, and add it to the bowl.

Now chop the herbs: the parsley, sage, and celery leaves.

Gently mix together all the ingredients in the bowl, ideally by hand. Add some salt, pepper, and the mace if using. Mix again.

The stuffing is now ready to go into the cavity of the bird.

[Instructions and cooking times for the bird can be found here.]

Cranberry lemon squares for a singular Thanksgiving

26 November 2020

This year I wasn’t sure about Thanksgiving. Many things felt uncertain just a few weeks ago, and wouldn’t a celebration without friends bring more acutely to the fore the limitations of these times? Better perhaps to stick our heads into the soggy English soil and push on to Christmas. All around us decorations are already going up.

Impossible. Not with children in the house who have never known a year without turkey, they were appalled. And, things started to look up. First in the news, then on a more personal note. The arc had begun to shift. And who am I to deprive my children of Thanksgiving, especially if they start baking pumpkin pie?

In this singular predicament where less time was needed preparing today, I suddenly had time to bake things, to give to friends. So I made pecan bars, which are probably my favourite and will endure some more tweaking before I’m entirely satisfied. And also these ridiculously delicious Cranberry Lemon Bars. The season will undoubtedly be different, but it stubbornly refuses to be swept under the carpet.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Cranberry lemon squares adapted from the NY Times Genevieve Ko’s Cranberry Lemon Bars
I have slightly modified each component. The shortbread comes from Alice Medrich’s book Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy, it has a little bit less butter which, shocking as it may seems, works better here I find. I have increased the quantity of lemon curd, which in the original seemed just barely enough to cover the whole surface. You can find the original recipe here.

Note about the pan size: The quantity fits a 34 x 23cm (13 x 9 in) pan, but any rectangular cake pans or loaf tins can be used — once the shortbread is pressed (as thinly as possible, about 1/2 cm or 1/4 inch thick), if it doesn’t cover the whole surface of the pan just create a ‘rim’ by folding the aluminium foil where the dough ends.

First, make the cranberry sauce

340g cranberries
150g sugar
150ml (2/3 cup) water
Zest from 2 lemons

Wash and pick through the cranberries to remove any soft or discoloured ones. In a medium saucepan, mix the cranberries, sugar, water, and lemon zest and bring to a boil. Cook over a medium flame for about 10 minutes, until the cranberries burst and take on the consistency of jam. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Now prepare the shortbread
(Note: this shortbread is different to the one in the original recipe)

250g butter (+ plus a small knob for buttering the pan)
100g sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp salt
310g flour

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F) and position the rack in the lower third of the oven.

Melt all the butter and let it cool slightly.

Meanwhile, line a high rim 34 x 23cm (13 x 9 in) pan with aluminum foil and brush it generously with some of the melted butter, making sure to go up the sides.

In a medium bowl, mix the warm butter with the sugar, vanilla, and salt until the melted butter has been completely incorporated. Add the flour and mix just enough to combine into a smooth dough (it will be quite soft and oily).

Press the dough into the prepared pan to achieve a smooth, even layer as thin as possible, about 1/2 cm (1/4 inch) thick.

Bake for 16 to 18 minutes, until the sides barely start to turn golden.

Meanwhile, prepare the lemon layer

260g caster sugar
30g flour
Pinch of sea salt
4 eggs
200ml lemon juice (using the zested lemons plus 1 or 2 besides)
Icing sugar for dusting (optional)

In a medium bowl, whisk together the sugar, flour, and salt. Add the eggs and stir gently to combine without over-whisking. Finally, gently whisk in the lemon juice until smooth.

Let the shortbread cool for about 5 minutes and spread the cranberry sauce over it in an even layer. Carefully pour the lemon mixture over the cranberries. Return to the oven and bake for 18 to 20 minutes, until the top layer is set (it shouldn’t jiggle).

Let cool completely then place the tray in the refrigerator for at least two hours until cold and set. Slice into bite-size squares and, if desired, dust with icing sugar before serving.

Cranberry lime sauce for a European Thanksgiving

2 December 2014

IMG_7741

Perhaps I am feeling sentimental. Certainly I am feeling sentimental — it happens once a year, on Thanksgiving.

Moved by bonds tightened over many years, touched by new ties strengthened over the course of a meal. Each one is a little different, and a little bit the same. The food varies only slightly; we are with old friends, and new friends. Some guests come from halfway across Europe, some cannot come at all. Some are cooking turkey with apple chestnut stuffing on the other side of the Atlantic. Thanksgiving is messy, and loud, and funny, and, basically, happy.

Thanksgiving is the time when we feel most strongly all the invisible strings.

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Barely different cranberry lime sauce
This version uses lime rather than lemon (or orange). I think it’s the best.

680 g fresh cranberries
300 g (1 1/2 cups) sugar
2 cups water
1  lime

Wash the cranberries, check through them, and chuck any discolored or soft ones.

In a saucepan, bring the sugar and water to a lively simmer.

Add the cranberries and cook for about 15 minutes, until they’ve all popped. Stir in the zest and juice of one lime and cook for another minute or so.

Remove from the heat and transfer to a jar or bowl.

Brussels sprouts and pecorino salad

6 December 2013

DSC_0042

I nearly didn’t make this salad for Thanksgiving.

With Sam Sifton’s peremptory Thanksgiving book still ringing in my ears, I did, in fact, briefly debate the pros and cons of his strict no-salad rule. Might it diminish the lusciousness of the meal? Is it the last thing anyone wants to see on a festive table? On the other hand, this barely counts as salad. Surely by salad, Sifton means lettuce?

As it turned out, this deceptively simple dish of raw Brussels sprouts and fresh pecorino, both finely shaved and tossed with a simple dressing, was — again — undoubtedly one of the favorites of the table. On the contrary, what a welcome bounce on the palate between forkfuls of turkey and chestnut stuffing.

This dish wasn’t born as a Thanksgiving side, and shouldn’t die as one. It is a salad for any occasion. I first encountered something similar quite some years ago in the lunch bar up the block from our office in Soho. That version had walnuts, and though adding nuts would be overkill on Thanksgiving, they marry perfectly.

This is barely a recipe, just a few very good ingredients tossed together. It must be made a few hours ahead, so the dressing has time to soften the Brussels sprouts. There should be enough pecorino for a shaving or two in each mouthful.

Very fresh Brussels sprouts, preferably still on the stem because snapping them off is a fun occupation for children on Thanksgiving morning

Pecorino, not too aged

Freshly squeezed lemon juice

Sherry or good wine vinegar

Best olive oil

Sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Freshly hulled walnuts (optional)

Trim and remove one or two outer leaves of each Brussels sprout, then shave them finely with a mandolin or a sharp knife and lots of patience.

Cut the pecorino into paper thin shavings.

The salad is very thirsty and will soak up the dressing, so plan generously, but the proportions are roughly: 5 lemon juice plus 1 vinegar to 8 olive oil.

Season with salt and pepper. Taste the salad and adjust dressing/seasoning as necessary.


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