Tryptophan nap

Friday, November 23, 2007

Another Thanksgiving is behind us, and we can all settle into turkey and stuffing leftovers for the next week.  I just finished picking the meat off my turkey carcass and the bones are now merrily boiling away in a soup pot for stock.

As usual, I participated in the 100 Mile Thanksgiving challenge.  Not every single ingredient was local, but a good portion of it was.  The big question: how did it go?

Well, I admit up front that I committed a cardinal Thanksgiving sin: my turkey was dry.  Not bone dry...but a little dry.  This is an unusual turn of events for me - I pride myself on being able to make a good turkey.  My turkey this year was an organic, free range turkey that I purchased from the Fair Food Farmstand.  It wasn’t the turkey.  Well...it was and it wasn’t.  There was a big tear in the breast skin of the turkey and I failed to compensate for it.  As I always do, I slip slices of (local) butter under the breast skin of the turkey and baste with (local and homemade) stock and white wine every 30 minutes.  I should have basted more often or covered the pan with tin foil, I think.

This was not a disaster and it didn’t ruin Thanksgiving, but I’m sort of anal compulsive...so it weighed on my mind during dinner.

Here’s the rest of the menu:

mixed mushroom stuffing (all local except salt and pepper)
brussels sprouts in red wine reduction and browned butter (all local except salt and wine)
creamed corn (all local)
mashed potatoes and celery root (all local)
cranberry-glazed sweet potatoes (bourbon, salt, pepper, brown sugar, and spices not local)
honey and spice cranberry sauce (all local except cinnamon sticks and orange peel)
apple cake (all local except baking powder and soda, salt, and cinnamon)
pumpkin creme brulee (all local except sugar, vanilla, and spices)

Of the local ingredients, the furthest away anything came was about 80 miles.  The closest was 0 miles (my garden).

As much as I enjoy cooking Thanksgiving dinner, I’m always happy when the cooking is over and always grateful that it only happens once a year.