148. Poached Whole Turkey Breast (p. 386) and 149. Lemon-Marinated Turkey with Golden Raisins, Capers and Pine Nuts (p. 383)

This is the first of several posts about food that I made for a lunch buffet for my son's dedication ceremony on Mother's Day. Since the ceremony was on a Sunday morning, and lunch was going to follow immediately afterward, I wanted to make things that I could cook ahead, and that could be served cold.

This recipe for poached whole turkey breast, and this recipe for serving the poached turkey in a lemon marinade* seemed like the perfect choice for a cold lunch buffet.

First, I made the poached turkey breast. I started with a seven-pound fresh whole turkey breast from Raymond's Turkey Farm just down the street from my house (here's to locally-produced food!). I put the turkey breast in my biggest stock pot, which as it turns out isn't that big after all. I filled the pot up to the brim with water and it barely covered the turkey. It looked even more like the Loch Ness Monster than Melissa's turkey. The creepy Scottish loch vibe continued as the water, which was precariously close to the top of the pot, kept boiling over as the turkey cooked. Anyway, I added some chopped carrots and onion along with some vinegar, bay leaves, salt and peppercorns. The Book says to simmer for 1 1/4 hours, but because my turkey was a bit larger than the five- to six-pound breast called for, and because I'm unreasonably afraid of undercooking poultry, I cooked it for about 1 3/4 hours. Then I let it cool in the cooking liquid for about a half hour before draining it, removing the skin and bones and cutting the breast into two large pieces for the marinated turkey dish. (I was also able to pick a good amount of meat off the bones, which I chopped up and made into a simple turkey salad. Pretty good!)

Next it was on to the marinade. I soaked some golden raisins in some boiling water to plump them up. Meanwhile, I took the zest off a couple of large lemons with a vegetable peeler, and squeezed the juice from the lemons. I whisked the juice together with some balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper, and quite a bit of olive oil. I mixed in the zest, raisins and some capers which I had drained and rinsed. I poured the marinade over the turkey, which I had placed in a large bowl. I marinated the turkey overnight, turning it a few times.

The morning of the ceremony, I sliced the turkey and arranged it on a platter. I strained the marinade and sprinkled the zest, raisins and capers over the turkey along with some pine nuts that I had toasted and some chopped parsley and mint. Finally I drizzled the marinade over the turkey, wrapped it tightly with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator until lunch.

This was a very nice way to eat cold turkey. The marinade was delicious with a nice interplay of the different flavors of the zesty lemon, the sweet raisins and the salty capers. The pine nuts gave the turkey a nice toastiness and crunch, and the chopped herbs contributed a light freshness. There's a lot going on here, but it didn't seem like too much. The only thing that there was a little too much of was the olive oil. The marinade did seem just a little bit greasy. But over all, I liked it, and it got good reviews from our guests.

The dedication ceremony was very nice. It was also very touching to mark this special occasion on my wife's first Mother's Day, and to visit with my parents (up from Pennsylvania), and the rest of my and my wife's families.


Date Cooked: May 9, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

*Neither of these recipes are on epicurious.com

102. Turkey Chipotle Chili (p. 388)

Continuing on the theme of "cook something big on the weekend so we don't have to cook during the week," I made this recipe because it looked like it would freeze well and because I knew that it would be good for three or four meals.

Actually, between the food I cooked and froze in advance, the cooking that I've been doing on the weekends, and the meals that a co-worker's wife has been making for us (she's a saint!), my wife and I haven't had to cook dinner on a weeknight since my son was born five weeks ago. It's made such a big difference.

The first thing that I did to make this chili was to puree some canned chipotle peppers in adobo sauce and some fresh tomatillos (I was surprised to find fresh tomatillos at the grocery store in January. The Book says that canned are OK, too.) and put them aside. Next I cooked up some chopped onions, minced garlic and cumin. I added four pounds of ground turkey (this is a meaty chili) and cooked it until it was no longer pink. Then I added the two purees, some chicken broth, a bay leaf and some oregano. After that had simmered for a while, I added some chopped green bell pepper and chopped canned green chiles and simmered for a while longer. Finally, I added some canned white beans that had been drained and rinsed. Once it was heated through and seasoned with salt and pepper, it was ready to eat, topped with a dallop of sour cream and a sprinkling of shredded cheddar cheese.

This was a nice, hearty, meaty chili. The use of tomatillos insted of tomatoes gave it a nice bright and tangy flavor. I didn't think that the chipotle and adobo flavor were strong enough, and when I make this again (this recipe is a keeper), I'll add more to give it some of additional heat and smokiness.

Date Cooked: January 25, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B+

79. Moussaka (p. 514)

When my wife and I were in college, one of our favorite places to eat was Grendel's Den in Harvard Square. Two romantic dinners at this cozy student-friendly restaurant stand out in my memory. The first was when we shared their "Cheese Fondue for Two." The other was the dinner where I was first introduced to moussaka. I'm sure that it was winter, because I remember how comforting the warm layers of spiced lamb, eggplant, tomatoes and bechamel sauce were. Ever since then, this has been one of my favorite dishes.

According to my Oxford Companion to Food there are many variations of moussaka, which gets its name from the Arabic word for "moistened," a reference to the tomato juices that permeate this dish. This recipe* is a version of the Greek interpretation of moussaka.

The recipe starts with sautéing onions, garlic and ground lamb. I used ground turkey because, despite all of my efforts, my wife won't eat lamb. Next I added cinnamon, allspice, dried mint and chopped canned plum tomatoes with some juice reserved from the canned tomatoes. For this step, I strained the canned tomatoes in a colander suspended over a bowl to catch the juices. I discarded the pulp leftover in the colander and used just the tomato juice for the recipe. In retrospect, I should have put the pulp back in with the juice because that would have given the filling some more substance. My filling, which was just a bit more watery that I would have liked.

While the turkey and tomato mixture was simmering, I broiled some eggplant slices that I had brushed with some olive oil. Once the eggplant slices were browned and tender, I assembled the moussaka by layering half of the eggplant slices, spreading the turkey and tomato mixture, and topping it with the rest of the eggplant.

Then I made the topping, which is a bechamel sauce with a twist. First, I made a roux of butter and flour, and then I whisked in some milk and brought it to a boil. Then I melted some crumbled feta cheese into the sauce which gave it a nice, and unexpected salty, tangy richness. Finally, I whisked in an egg and a yolk beaten together. I poured this over the casserole and topped it with some grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

I baked the moussaka until it was golden and bubbling. After it rested for a few minutes, it was ready to eat. I really enjoyed this dish. It tasted and smelled great. The cinnamon, allspice and mint gave this moussaka a great, traditional Greek flavor. The eggplant was tender and delicious, and the feta-spiked bechamel was awesome! The turkey was fine, but lamb would have been better.
And the leftovers were just as good out of the microwave.

Date Cooked: November 23, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B+

*This recipe is not on epicurious.com.

72. Turkey Wraps with Chipotle Mayonnaise (p. 189)

This is the last of my Thanksgiving-related posts before we return to our regularly-scheduled programming.

The Book doesn't have a whole lot of recipies that are suitable for leftover turkey. This recipe* seemed quick and easy, so I decided to give it a try on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I think this is the first sandwich that I've made from The Book. Not a bad introduction.

This recipe is a twist on the traditional turkey and mayonnaise sandwich. First, the bread is replaced by a wrap. The Book suggests whole wheat wraps, but I had some flour tortillas on hand, so that's what I used. Next, the mayonnaise is spiked with a few teaspoons of chopped chipotle peppers and adobo sauce. The mayonnaise was good. It was creamy and had a nice, smoky flavor. The spiciness was a little overwhelming for this sandwich, and it kind of took over. If I were to make this mayonnaise again, I might just use the adobo sauce and leave out the chipotles.

The real revelation of this recipe is the pickled red onions. Take a red onion and slice it thinly. Blanch it in boiling water for a minute. Then boil it for another minute or so in some more water, cider vinegar and a little salt. Let it cool and put it in the refrigerator for about two hours. The result are slightly sweet, slightly sour pickled onions that add a nice crunch and beautiful rosy color to the sandwich. This was a super-easy addition that I'll definetly re-purpose for other uses (I think that they'd be great on burgers).

I finished the wraps off with some shredded green-leaf lettuce. The Book calls for pea shoots, but says that lettuce is an acceptable alternative. I don't know where I'd find pea shoots in the spring time, never mind in November. I'm sure that pea shoots would have added another something special to the sandwich, but the lettuce was a nice contrast to the strong flavors of the mayonnaise and the pickled onions.

Date Cooked: November 29, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

* This recipe isn't on epicurious.com.

70. Herbed Bread Stuffing (p. 378)

The Book calls for this recipe to stuff the turkey I made for Thanksgiving. I chose not to stuff the turkey, but I made this stuffing anyway, because it sounded good. I'm glad I did.

The recipe starts with a one-pound loaf of crusty, country-style bread. I used a loaf of ciabatta from my local mega-mart bakery. I cut the bread into one-inch cubes and toasted in the oven.

While the bread cubes cooled, I sauteed some chopped onions and thinly-sliced celery in some butter with some thyme, sage and rosemary.

The sauteed vegetables are mixed with the bread and some chicken stock and water. I transferred the stuffing to a 13-by-9-inch baking dish, dotted it with butter and put it in the oven for about 40 minutes. The Book says that if you like moist stuffing, cook covered for the full time, but if you prefer "less moist" stuffing with a crispy top, uncover it after the first 10 minutes. I like my stuffing moist and crispy at the same time, so I split the difference and took the foil cover off after 20 minutes. The result was great. moist with a little bit of a golden crust on top. I really liked the big pieces of bread, and the great flavor of the celery and onions with the butter and herbs. This was like Stove Top Stuffing on steroids.

Date Cooked: November 27, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

69. Roast Turkey with Herbed Bread Stuffing and Giblet Gravy (p. 376)

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm going to take the next couple of recipes out of order so that I can tell you all about what I made for Thanksgiving. I still have a little backlog of recipes that I've cooked, but not blogged about yet. I'll get to those next week. But, now, I want to talk about this recipe.

We spend Thanksgiving with my wife's family, which has now grown so big that we're a two-turkey family. The big dinner is at my sister-in-law's house. She was making the "big bird." I offered to make the smaller back-up bird at my house and bring it over. I've never cooked a turkey before, so I was pretty anxious and excited for the challenge.


The first step was to get the bird. The Book calls for a 12- to 14-pound kosher turkey. The blurb in The Book says that Gourmet recommends kosher turkey because "it tends to surpass both supermarket brands and free-range birds in flavor as well as moistness." I don't have a ready source of kosher turkey, but there is a turkey farm in my town, so I have a source of locally-produced fresh turkey. This is where the family has been getting our turkeys for years, so I wasn't going to break with tradition. On my sister-in-law's advice, I called about a month before Thanksgiving to reserve my turkey. I ordered a 16- to 19-pound fresh turkey, and the nice folks at Raymond's Turkey Farm told me that I could pick it up anytime the Monday to Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

So I decided to pick up my turkey on the Tuesday before thanksgiving, first thing in the morning before work, right when they opened at 8am. Easy-peasy, in and out, get the turkey throw it in the 'fridge at my house and back out the door and to work on time. Now, I've been to Raymond's many times, after all the place is an institution in my town. I've gone there to pick up a turkey pie, a roasted chicken, ground turkey, and other tasty things. But I'd never been there the week before Thanksgiving. Had I read this article from the local newspaper, I wouldn't have been surprised when I got to the farm at 8:10 to find the parking lot full, two police officers directing traffic and a line out the door. Oh, and did I mention that it was raining? When I finally got out of the rain and into the farm shop, I was greeted by a woman presiding over a counter lined by about dozen card file boxes. "Name?" she asked. I told her, and she flipped through her card file, pulled out a card with my name and the size turkey I ordered written on it. I was taken aback a bit by the sudden realization that each card in the boxes represented a turkey. Later, I learned that the farm raises 20,000 turkeys each year, 9,000 of which are sold at Thanksgiving. Despite the long line, the farm runs a pretty efficient operation, and I was out the door, with my 17-pound turkey in hand, in about 15 minutes.

The day before Thanksgiving, I made the Turkey Giblet Stock, which is a sub-recipe to the main roast turkey recipe, and is a component of the Giblet Gravy that accompanies the turkey. All of the turkey's innards were neatly wrapped in a tidy wax-paper package in the turkey's cavity. I identified the turkey's neck, kidneys, heart and liver, and browned them (except the liver) in a tablespoon of canola oil. Then, I added chopped celery, carrot, onion, a bay leaf and some peppercorns and thyme, along with some water and store-bought chicken broth (I'm all out of my own home-made stock, again!). Simmer for a bit less than an hour, cool completely and then refrigerate.

Then I made my pumpkin pie (I used The Book's Basic Pastry Dough for the crust, but for the filling, I stuck with tradition and used the recipe from the back of the pumpkin can) and my cranberry sauce (check back tomorrow for that post), and went to bed to rest up for "the big show."

I woke up bright and early on Thanksgiving day. My goal was to get the turkey into the oven by 8am so that it would be done and we could be out the door and on the way to my sister-in-law's by noon.

First, I rinsed the turkey inside and out, and patted it dry with paper towels. Then I seasoned it with pepper and kosher salt (hey, even if my turkey wasn't kosher, at least my salt was). Then I tied the legs together and pinned the wings to the body with wooden skewers. Into the oven it went, first at a pretty high temperature, presumably to start to crisp up the skin and get the juices flowing. During this first half hour, there was an awful lot of crackling, sizzling and sputtering. After that, I reduced the oven temperature and began the roasting in earnest. I basted the turkey every twenty minutes, as directed by The Book.

Since this was my first attempt at roasting a turkey, and since I still don't have a decent instant-read thermometer, I opted to roast the turkey without stuffing it. I've heard so many horror stories about well-meaning amateur cooks poising their loved-ones with a stuffed turkey gone wrong. Also, the fact that I was going to be transporting my cooked turkey across town before serving it, made food safety a priority. I made the Herbed Bread Stuffing separately, and I'll blog about it tomorrow.

After about three hours, the turkey's thigh meat registered about 180 degrees. The Cook's Note in The Book says that an un-stuffed turkey would be done at 170 degrees. I was satisfied that I had enough of a margin of safety, even though I was a little bit worried that I might have overdone it a bit.

I took the turkey out of the oven and put the roasting rack on a tray so that the bird could rest for a bit. Meanwhile, I brought my turkey stock to a simmer on the stovetop. The Book says to "skim fat from pan juices and reserve 1/4 cup of fat." Well, there was about two cups of "pan juices" in the roasting pan, but no discernable "fat" to skim off ... it looked pretty homogeneous. I determined that it was pretty much all fat, so I reserved 1/4 cup of it, and drained out almost all the rest, and hoped for the best. Then I put a cup of the stock in the roasting pan, put it over a burner and deglazed it, scraping up all those great browned bits on the bottom of the pan. All of that goes back into the rest of the simmering stock. Then I made a roux of the reserved 1/4 cup of fat and some flour. After a few minutes of whisking the roux over low heat, I added the broth and deglazing juices. After simmering and whisking for about ten minutes, I had a silky, rich and flavorful gravy.

After I made the gravy, the turkey was rested and ready. I put the turkey (on its rack) back into the deglazed roasting pan, wrapped the whole thing in foil, and put it into a large, newspaper lined cardboard box for the trip across town to my sister-in-law's house. After a short, but nerve-wracking ten minute drive, we arrived, and the turkey wasn't any worse for wear.

I was really happy with my first attempt at roasted turkey. It was pretty moist and flavorful with a beautiful, crispy, golden skin. I probably cooked it a little longer then I needed to, but I wasn't going to risk undercooking it, and I was still satisfied with the results. The aroma of the roasting turkey was great, and we have plenty of leftovers for sandwiches and some sort of turkey recipe or other.

Date Cooked: November 27, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easier than I thought it would be
Rating: A-

62. Turkey Meat Loaf (with Roasted Red Pepper-Tomato Sauce) (p. 387)

As the weather begins to get cooler, I start to crave comfort food more and more. You really can't get more comfortable than meat loaf and mashed potatoes, now can you? I made this recipe on Columbus day after a long weekend of home renovations (make way for baby!).

Rather than settle for the off-colored, industrially-produced ground turkey from the mega-mart, I opted to go local. I got the ground turkey for this dish from Raymond's Turkey Farm, an institution in my town for the past fifty-plus years. Unfortunately, when I visited them on the morning I intended to cook this dish, they only had frozen ground turkey. But not to worry, just as the helpful Raymond's employee said it would, the turkey thawed in no time when I placed the sealed package in a large bowl of cold water. The other problem was that the turkey was pre-packaged in one-pound increments. The recipe calls for 1 1/4 lbs. of turkey. I bought two pounds thinking that I'd thaw it all, use what I needed for the recipe and put the rest in the fridge for some later use. After I thought about it for a moment, I realized that there was a strong likelihood that the remaining 3/4 lb. would sit in the back of the fridge for a couple of weeks until it either decomposed or waddled back to the farm. I opted to just make a slightly smaller meat loaf and keep the second pound of turkey in the freezer, where it has a much better chance of actually being used in the future.

Like a lot of really good recipes, this one starts with cooking onions and garlic in a little bit of oil. Once they are softened, you add some diced carrots and cook them for a bit. Next, you add some cremini mushrooms that have been whizzed in the food processor, and cook them until they have given off most of their liquid. Finally, you add some Worcestershire sauce, ketchup and chopped fresh parsley. The result is an intensely flavorful mixture that adds a lot of texture and interest to the finished meat loaf.

While the vegetable mixture is cooling, soak some breadcrumbs in milk. (I took The Book's advice and made my own breadcrumbs in the food processor.) Then mix in the eggs, the vegetable mixture, and finally the turkey and knead it all together with your hands. That's right...roll up your sleeves, take off your wedding ring, and dig in. Once it's all well-combined, turn it out onto an oiled baking dish and form it into a football-shaped loaf and brush it with ketchup. (Yes, ketchup is a perfectly acceptable Gourmet ingredient.) Bake the loaf until it reaches the indicated temperature.

The Book says that you can serve this meat loaf with more ketchup on the side, but it recommends a Roasted Red Pepper-Tomato Sauce. Now, I know that one of the rules of The Project are that there are no rules, but my goal is to cook every recipe in The Book. This is generally a very straightforward goal, but at times it requires me to make some decisions. For example, a few recipes include a number of variations. The Mashed Potatoes With Six Variations that I'll post about next is one of these recipes. Do I have to make the main recipe and all six variations before I can check this one off? A stickler would say yes. I say no. Other recipes, like this one, include a sub-recipe. For some arbitrary reason, I feel like I can't check off the main recipe unless I make the sub-recipe, too. So, it's for that reason, that I went ahead and made the Roasted Red Pepper-Tomato Sauce, and boy am I glad I did.

This recipe is pretty easy, if a little time consuming. You start by roasting a whole garlic bulb (wrapped in foil), a whole red bell pepper and some plum tomatoes in the oven for about an hour (that's the time-consuming part). The epicurious recipe calls for the pepper to be wrapped in foil, too, while The Book leaves it unwrapped and asks you to turn it a few times during the cooking. After they're good and roasted, you take the veggies out of the oven and wrap the pepper in plastic (I put it in a ziploc bag) for a little while to steam. This step makes it super-easy to peel the skin off the pepper. Then the pepper, tomatoes, and the garlic go into the food processor with a little bit of olive oil, lemon juice and balsamic vinegar. (If you're counting, that's the third time I've used the food processor in making this meal. And yes, I had to wash it in between each step. A little bit of a pain, but worth it I think.) The result is a bright (in color and flavor), hearty sauce with a nicely balanced pepper, tomato and garlic flavor. It was delicious on the meat loaf, but I've also got it filed away as a topping for some baked polenta or a substantial pasta.

And by the way, the leftovers were great, too.

Date Cooked: October 13, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A