“Sans Pan” Cider Gravy

This is a great gravy recipe to use when you’re grilling a Thanksgiving turkey and don’t have a pan to collect the juices. A quick turkey stock made from the neck and giblets (removed before the turkey roasts) is enhanced by a nutty roux and brightened by a splash of apple cider. As Nicki says, “it’s the perfect autumnal gravy.”

cider-gravy-recipeQuick Turkey Stock

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
Neck and gizzards (minus liver) from 1 turkey
1 large onion, halved with skin on
2 cloves garlic, skin on
1 large carrot, roughly chopped
2 celery ribs, roughly chopped
8 white peppercorns
5 allspice berries
2 bay leaves
3 thyme sprigs
4 cups water
1 cup low-sodium chicken stock

Heat the olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Sear turkey neck and gizzards, onion, garlic, carrot and celery for 5 minutes, until browned.

Add spices and pour in water and chicken stock. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 1 hour. Strain.

Makes 3 cups

“Sans Pan” Cider Gravy

4 tablespoons butter, cut into 1 tablespoon chunks
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
3 cups hot Quick Turkey Stock
1 cup apple cider
2 thyme sprigs
1 tablespoon minced sage
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Melt butter in a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour and continue to whisk frequently for 3-5 minutes, until mixture turns deep golden and begins to smell toasted and nutty. Slowly pour in hot turkey stock, whisking constantly (it will hiss and may spatter a bit). Then whisk in cider.

Add thyme and sage, and bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 5-7 minutes, until mixture mixture has thickened. Stir in apple cider vinegar and season with salt and pepper.

Makes 3 cups

Carving New Traditions

This summer when we took Noemi for a visit with family in Connecticut, I wrote a nibble about pondering the traditions you want to pass on. Now, as I sit down to write my take on Thanksgiving tradition, I’m taking that nibble for a little spin.

I’ll be honest; I never liked Thanksgiving all that much. The traditional dishes just aren’t up my alley and it always seemed like a whole lot of fuss for a meal that was over in thirty minutes. I played along, but it always felt like something I was supposed to love but never really, in my heart of hearts, did.

But everything changed between Thanksgiving and me three years ago with one little word: Noemi.

My husband Christopher and I had spent the bulk of September and October working through endless papers and forms and notarizations and fingerprints and exams to be put on the waitlist to adopt a Guatemalan baby, and on November 13th we’d finally turned in the last bit and were settling in for what we’d been told would be a long wait.

I doodled our daughter’s name—I’d picked out Saramaya in part because Sarah is one of my favorite names, in part to pay homage to her homeland—in my organizer. We wondered aloud whether she’d be born before the New Year. But never, ever did we think we’d get official clearance for a referral before January, let alone an actual match.

And then just four days later on November 17th, the week before Thanksgiving, the phone rang and Kelly Jo from Heartsent was on the other line. “I have something to tell you,” she said and I knew immediately from her voice—which I had gotten to know very, very well over the preceding months—that she had news. Big, big news. I told Kelly Jo to hang on as I raced to my husband’s office with my heart thumping out of my chest. “Oh my God,” he said when he saw my face and ran over to clutch my hand.

“I have a referral for you!” Kelly Jo unleashed the news. “We have your daughter. Her name is Noemi de Leon.” And, of course, all our predictions and plans and even the name we’d picked went right out the door. Noemi was Noemi from the moment she was born; and she was our daughter too.

The following Thursday, with our heads still spinning and our hearts gushing with joy, we propped up our very first pictures of our daughter on the table and made Pollo en Jocon—a simple Guatemalan stew. It was the best Thanksgiving we’d ever had.

In the years since we’ve pondered what, exactly, we wanted Thanksgiving to look like for our Huber clan of three and we’ve decided on a few things that are about as traditional as the way we became a family. We’ve agreed to indulge our thirst for exploring unknown places and people—a passion that was the seed to our adopting Noemi to begin with and one we’re eager to share with her. We’ve decided to keep it small so we can focus on deepening our ties as a family. And we’ve adopted Pollo en Jocon as our family’s “traditional” Thanksgiving dish so that, every year, we’ll be able to let our daughter know just how thankful we are for her while honoring her roots . . . no matter where the three of us may be.

This Thanksgiving, think not just about the traditions you want to pass on, but what new ones you’d like to begin too.

Guatemalan Avocado Salad with Arugula and Chile-Lime Dressing

This is the salad I’ve settled on serving with the Pollo en Jocon we’ll be having for Thanksgiving—a mixture of creamy and rich and light and crisp (it’s a variation on a traditional Guatemalan recipe from the excellent book, False Tongues and Sunday Bread). I could tell you about how healthy the monounsaturated fats from the avocados are, but you already know that. Instead, just enjoy the dish.

avocado-salad-recipe

2 large, ripe avocados
1 hard-boiled egg, peeled and coarsely mashed
2 tablespoons finely diced red onion
1/4 cup jicama, peeled and cut into a 1/4-inch dice
1/4 cup lime juice, divided
1/2 teaspoon oregano
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon minced fresh hot chiles
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
2 tablespoons Canola oil
6 cups arugula, cleaned and dried

Scrape the flesh from the avocados into a bowl and roughly mash it with the egg. Mix in the onion, jicama, 2 tablespoons lime juice, oregano and salt and pepper to taste, but take care to only mix enough to blend, not so much so that it becomes smooth.

In a tight sealing jar, shake together remaining lime juice, chiles, vinegar, oil and salt and pepper to taste. Let sit for at least 20 minutes.

To serve, toss arugula with dressing and arrange on a platter. Mound avocado salad on top and serve with hot tortillas.

Note: This also makes a great variation of guacamole — just omit the arugula and serve with chips.

Serves 4 as a main course, 8 as a side

Miso- and Herb-Rubbed Applewood Smoked Heritage Turkey

Cooking a heritage turkey for Thanksgiving connects you to our country’s history and the farmers dedicated to preserving heritage breeds . . . and to some tasty meat. The miso in this rub acts almost like a light brine, only without any of the mess.

miso-herb-rubbed-smoked-heritage-turkey
2 cloves garlic, smashed
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup white miso
4 tablespoons butter, softened
1/4 cup mixed, minced herbs
1 (12-pound) heritage turkey

Mash the garlic to a paste with a pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper (don’t use too much salt or the bird will be too salty). In a small bowl, mix together garlic, miso, butter and herbs.

Very carefully work your fingers under the skin and rub the mixture all over the breast and legs. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, soak 2 cups applewood chips in cold water for 30 minutes.

Preheat the grill.

Drain and transfer chips to a smoke box (or create a tray from heavy-duty foil). Lift up cooking grates on the grill and place the chip tray directly on the burner (when grilling the bird, you’ll be using direct heat, which means only one burner will be on . . . place the chip tray on that burner). Replace the cooking grates and turn all burners to high.

When grill is hot, turn off all burners but the one the wood chips are resting on (leave that one on high) and adjust the heat so the temperature stays around 325F. Spray a “V” roasting rack with cooking spray, place the turkey breast-side down, and position in the middle of the indirect heat area. Close the cover and cook for 2 hours, turning the rack 180 degrees halfway through.

After 2 hours, flip the bird over head-to-toe (so to speak—breast should be up now, and neck where the tail was) and grill for another 1 to 1-1/2 hours, turning the rack 180 degrees halfway through. Use a thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the leg without touching bone to test if the turkey is done (should read 145F).

Take the turkey off the grill, tent loosely with foil and let rest for 20 minutes before carving.

Serves 12

A Story of Heritage Turkey

Turkey is the iconic American bird. So it’s only fitting that it takes center stage for that iconic American holiday: Thanksgiving. The species is native to the Americas, but many of the breeds that populated our country’s agricultural landscape throughout the centuries were a mix of indigenous wild turkeys and domesticated ones bred in Europe from stock originally exported from the New World. So from early on, in quintessential American fashion, the turkey became a cultural hybrid.

heritage-turkey

But there’s more to the story. To me, turkeys are a living illustration of how much our country’s food culture has changed in the past 50 years.

For hundreds of years, up until the mid-20th century, farmers bred turkeys for flavor, beauty and yield. Each breed was developed for a different purpose: Narragansetts were good foragers where food was scarce, the Bourbon Red was prized for its meat and the Standard Bronze for its beautiful plumage. By the 1950s though, as our food system became more industrialized and turkey breast became a deli standard, two of those factors—flavor and beauty—fell from consideration. After all, people no longer bought turkeys from their nearest turkey farmer, they bought it prepackaged (and probably frozen) from one of the burgeoning supermarkets in the area.

Turkey breeders began selecting for birds that could be developed quickly, could efficiently convert food into the coveted breast meat and would have flawless skin once plucked. Thus the Broad Breasted White, in a time when Wonder Bread and Twinkies were considered modern miracles, took the market by storm. Today, they make up about 99% of the turkey market in America, and many of those other breeds—what we now call heritage turkeys—are close to extinction.

What Are Heritage Turkeys? There are roughly a dozen varieties of heritage turkeys, seven of which were recognized back in 1874 in the first edition of the American Poultry Association’s Standard of Perfection—the official guide to breed standards for all types of poultry. Technically, the term “heritage turkey” is defined by these three characteristics:

  • They can mate naturally. This may sound self-evident, but the Broad Breasted White—because of its short breast and legs—cannot mate on its own and must be artificially inseminated in order to reproduce.
  • They must be able to live a productive life outside in their natural environment. In contrast, heirlooms’ buxom cousins are much less hardy and more prone to disease.
  • They must have a slow (some might say “normal”) growth rate. Mass-produced turkeys develop so quickly that their muscles can outpace the rest of their bodies.

It’s ironic to me that something has to be defined with a fancy moniker like “heritage” to say it can live a normal, healthy life in a natural environment and that what we take for granted as “turkey” is something that came from generations of artificial insemination, doesn’t develop properly and doesn’t have the fortitude to live in its native habitat.

Why Would I Want to Buy a Heritage Turkey? The easy answer is incredibly flavorful, juicy meat. The more in-depth answer is, by serving up a heritage turkey you’re helping save them from disappearing altogether. Four of the roughly dozen heritage turkey breeds are listed on Slow Food’s Ark of Taste as near extinction. The more demand there is for these heritage breeds, the more incentive farmers will have to raise them.

How Are They Different? True heritage birds look, well, scrawny. They have longer breast bones and legs, making their breast look more pup tent than plump. They also layer on fat differently, since they’re essentially a wild animal, so you’re likely to find large deposits towards the neck rather than distributed throughout. While the breast meat doesn’t taste enormously different, the dark meat is redder with a much richer flavor, almost like that of duck or goose.

Do I Have to Cook a Heritage Bird Differently? Because heritage birds have smaller breasts, they cook faster and can dry out easily. Cook the bird until a thermometer inserted into the deepest part of the thigh (without touching bone) reads 145F-150F (it will continue to cook as it rests).

Braised Kale Trio

Use a mixture of different varieties of kale–like red Russian, Tuscan and Portuguese–if you can get your hands on them. A local farmer, Bibianna Love, opened my eyes to the incredible variety of flavors and textures between them. Together, they elevate a simple side dish of greens.

braised-kale-trio-recipe
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
16 cups kale, zipped, cleaned and roughly chopped
1/4 cup vegetable broth
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat oil in a large, deep saute pan or Dutch oven over medium heat, and add garlic. Saute for 1 minute, until golden brown and fragrant. Add kale and vegetable stock to pan, season with salt and pepper, and toss well to coat. Cover pan, reduce heat to medium-low, and cook for 2-5 minutes, tossing occasionally, until kale is crisp-tender.

Remove lid and increase heat to medium-high. Continue to cook for 2-5 more minutes, until any remaining liquid has evaporated and kale is tender but still vibrant.

Season to taste with additional salt and pepper.

Serves 4

Just Say “No”

A friend of mine once said, “When we say ‘yes’ to one thing, we’re also saying ‘no’ to something else whether we realize it or not.” Wise words. And I find the opposite to be true, too. We often think of “no” as a negative response, but when stated purposefully it can open doors for very positive results.

just-say-noIt’s in that spirit that I write this—as much to myself as to you. I eye the bowl of leftover Halloween candy on the top of the cabinet, the birthday cupcakes in the freezer, the containers of Party Mix on top of the fridge, and know all too well how easy it is to indulge in a bite here and handful there. But when I stop and think about what I’m saying no to in that wordless, mindless “yes,” I realize I’m preventing myself from feeling strong and centered and wholesome and good. And those consequences cascade beyond just my body. After just a few spontaneous yeses to empty indulgences I begin to feel unbalanced and unmotivated, which takes a toll on my family, my relationships, my work.

Those are some big costs for little yeses. And understanding that is a big part of mindful eating practice.

So this week, especially as the paths are laid for the holidays ahead, I want to practice just saying “no” and feeling the fullness, balance and joy that comes as a consequence. I encourage you all to join me, and to notice the impact it has on you in the days ahead. And if you’re so inspired, share your experiences in the comments below . . . I’m curious to hear about all the yeses that come from saying no.

Remixing Tradition

It’s my daughter’s third birthday today and we’ve got a party tomorrow with a guest list nearing 90 (she’s having a dual party with her best bud, Julia). And while Noemi was very specific on what type of cupcake she wanted—“chocolate underneath with sparklies on top”—she left the rest of the menu to me. So I thought it a good time to introduce a traditional staple of our family gatherings . . . Chex Mix.

chex-mix-vignetteOnly, me being me, I felt the need to mix it up a bit. First, there are kids in Noe’s class with peanut allergies, so no peanuts or nuts in my revamped mix. Second, I wanted to stay away from artificial preservatives like BHT and TBHQ, which more than a few studies have shown may increase cancer risk, so that means Cheezits and even Chex are out. Third, even though this is simply a snack, I wanted to try and skew it towards something other than just empty calories.

And I think we’ve succeeded ( . . . I write with crumbs on my chest).

For starters, I swapped out the Chex with a mixture of Barbara’s Multigrain Shredded Spoonfuls and Nature’s Path Organic Heritage Heirloom Whole Grain Bites, which was a great combo of slightly sweet and nice and nutty and contributed nearly 5 grams of fiber per serving. Then Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies hopped in for the Cheezits and the pretzels stay put. I updated the spice mix a bit, subbed in healthy Canola oil for some of the butter (don’t try to skimp on the oil or butter . . . we tested a variety of amounts and found that any less fat didn’t completely coat the mixture), and gave it an extra long bake.

Sometimes, to be true to yourself in carrying on tradition you have to mix it up a bit. More on that topic when I write about my take on the Thanksgiving holidays . . . but right now, I’ve got 90 cupcakes to bake.

Noemi’s Remixed Party Mix

Use an extra-large roasting pan for this update on the classic Chex mix recipe, or split the party mix between two smaller ones. The more contact the mix has with the bottom of the pan, the more yummy, crispy, savory crusties there will be.

noemis-remixed-party-mix-recipe

4 cups Barbara’s Multigrain Shredded Spoonfuls
4 cups Nature’s Path Organic Heritage Heirloom Whole Grain Bites
2 cups mini pretzel twists
2 cups Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies
4 tablespoons butter, melted
3 tablespoons Canola oil
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
3/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon dried mustard
1/2 teaspoon ground fennel
1 teaspoon celery salt
1 teaspoon kosher salt

Preheat oven to 250 degrees F.

Mix together cereals, pretzels and Cheddar Bunnies in a large roasting pan (or, if splitting it between two smaller roasting pans, a large mixing bowl).

In a small bowl, whisk together butter, oil, spices and salts.

Pour spiced oil mixture over cereal mixture and toss, thoroughly but gently, with your hands until every piece is coated somewhat evenly. Spread mixture evenly in roasting pan(s) and bake for 1 hour and 20 minutes, stirring with a spatula every 20 minutes.

Stores for several days in an air-tight container.

Makes 12 cups (24 servings)

Sweet Potato Puree with Honey and Crispy Shallots

This is an incredibly versatile side dish that shows just how delicious healthy can be. Serve this sweet potato with a Thanksgiving turkey or a simple roast chicken. Or top it with a mushroom sauté for a meatless feast any night.

sweet-potato-puree-recipe4 pounds garnet sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup finely chopped shallots
4 tablespoons butter, divided
3/4 cup low-fat milk
3 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons soy sauce
sea salt and freshly ground white pepper

Bring a large pot of boiling salted water to a boil and drop in potatoes. Return to a gentle boil over medium heat and cook for 12-15 minutes, until tender enough to pierce with a fork. Drain in a colander and transfer half of the potatoes to a food processor.

Heat oil in a large sauté pan over medium heat and sauté shallots for 10-12 minutes, stirring frequently, until deep golden brown (be careful—they go quickly from golden to burnt in the last minute or so). Transfer to a paper towel. Set aside 2 tablespoons shallots.

Add 2 tablespoons butter, milk, honey and soy sauce to the food processor with the sweet potatoes and puree for 30 seconds, until smooth. Scrape into a bowl and repeat with the remaining ingredients. Combine the two batches of puree, season with salt and pepper and stir in all but the reserved 2 tablespoons of the shallots.

Scrape into a serving bowl and top with reserved shallots.

Serves 12