It's been awhile since I've seen the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special, so I don't recall how we evolved from Pilgrims breaking bread with the Native Americans to stuffing our faces with poultry. As a naturally curious human being, I could probably investigate this more but my family didn't come here until well into the 20th century.
But I can't argue with a day that reminds us that we have much to be thankful for, even if it's relegated to a few spare moments between football games. This year found me in a bizarre situation: I had a job. Like a real job. (although my contract was up December 1st. So hire me? Please?)
My real job meant that a) I had money but b) not a whole lotta time. So this year I did something unthinkable:
I outsourced part of Thanksgiving.
Most specifically, the bird. I don't mind cooking turkey, but when you have a midget fridge, wood countertops and no dishwasher, not poisoning your guests becomes a game of Russian Roulette or damning the environment as you chase your salmonella footsteps with a can of Lysol that you carry on your belt like a hammer.
So the turkey, gravy, and biscuits (I'm a sucker for decent bread) were courtesy of Grace Restaurant. There are cheaper places to buy your bird, but the deep-fried turkey was sheer perfection. Crispy skin, juicy meat, and a slightly smoky flavor that complemented the thyme-truffle gravy (which I also purchased, as I wouldn't have any pan drippings to make gravy with.)
To paraphrase Tracy Morgan, I wanted to take this turkey behind the high school and get it pregnant.
Picking the bird up the day before I was worried that it might be dry, but even SlackDad, who doesn't taste the difference between Hungry-Man TV Dinner turkey and a heritage bird had a second helping.
Also, in your instruction manual on how to reheat all of your goodies? Chef Neal Fraser's cell phone number, in case you run into any problems. That's service, people. We considered drunk dialing him, but we didn't. 'Cause we're classy that way. (Although not classy enough to not at least consider it.)
See the rest of Thanksgiving after the jump...
Before desecration.
Something odd has happened to me as an adult: I started to like vegetables. In fact, I feel like crap when I don't eat vegetables (don't worry, I still eat cake and drink bourbon. Something has to offset all of those vegetables!)
You may think you hate brussel sprouts. Now I'll tell you: you're wrong. The additions I made to the above: I added cubed pancetta when I was caramelizing the shallots, I omitted the extra butter when I fried the hash (there was plenty of fat from the rendered pancetta!) added half the water at the end, and made it before my guests arrived, then popped it in the oven for ten minutes with little parmesan cheese to get a crusty top. Everyone ate this. EVERYONE.
Maple roasted squash and parsnips.
I love squash. It's like candy in vegetable form. I followed the reviewers comments (the reason I use Epicurious so much is because of the user comments) and halved the (good quality) maple syrup and splurged on the marcona almonds. While I bought pre-cubed butternut squash, I actually purchased a kobocha, which looks like an angry green pumpkin. I peeled it by boiling each side for ten minutes, then cutting it in half and using my veggie peeler.
This would have made a fabulous leftover soup (puree/mash with some broth, voila!), although it was gone before I had the chance.
Mashed potatoes with roasted fennel.
Listen: I like mashed potatoes, I swear. But they have a tendency to be, well, paste-like. I didn't eat paste as a kid (things I did eat: head cheese, herring, smoked fish) so why would I start now? I love fennel, and it gives your potatoes a depth that you didn't even know was lacking. Fennel lovers will recognize their favorite veggies, while fennel haters will simply love these. I like to sneak vegetables into things. Now you know.
The fennel puree I made the day before and refrigerated, then mashed into the taters the day-of.
The plate. I need to make beets next year, as it looks a little bland.
Oh, wait, I almost forgot the magic ingredient. The one thing that, like Lebowski's ubiquitous rug, tied the whole day together:
People always think we're fancy here at the Detective Agency because we like to have signature cocktails for events. The reality is that when it comes to bubbly, it's pretty damned easy. Flavored simple syrup + bottle of bubbly = pitcher of deliciousness. I wanted something that wasn't overly sweet. And then it hit me: GINGER IS GOOD FOR YOU. I used the recipe above (minus the five-spice powder; I didn't have any.) That's a piece of crystallized ginger at the bottom of the glass for good luck.
Okay, I made that last part up.
All in all: most everything I made a day ahead of time or early the day-of. So minus that twenty minutes before everyone sits down for dinner, I was able to mingle with my friends and family for most of the pre-meal activities. (And by mingling, I mean drinking.) All in all, a successful feast.
Imagine what I could do with a full-size fridge and a kitchen that's up to code? A girl can dream...
The entire Flickr set is here.
