Refrigerator Jenga started when two items dropped out to the floor while stacking in the latest ingredients. I took out three cups of cranberries to make the sauce. All I got in return (besides cranberry sauce and one box checked off the list) was a small spot on top of the 4# bag. I stuffed a small package of mushrooms there.
Cleaning and tidying happens in between meal organization and prep. That part is less fun.
This is actually a post about gravy. The rest of the world has finally reached my brilliant unventing of gravy: make it ahead. I have childhood memories of my mother juggling the flimsy aluminum turkey pan onto the cooktop. The turkey had been removed, the drippings sloshed everywhere. The pan was thin. I was often given the job of keeping the fluid moving so it wouldn't burn. Mom created alchemy with flour (Wondra), and whatever other magic she used to make delicious gravy. Yes, there were often lumps that had to be hunted down and squished, one by one. (Lumps are flour clumps that get coated too quickly with fat, and so don't absorb moisture from the pan. The Wondra was supposed to solve this by being a powdery flour preparation, but something often happened to have me chasing lumps with the wooden spoon.)
It took YEARS to engineer the gravy to be exactly like my mother's. I think mine is better. I combine multiple recipes, lots of seat of the pants substitutions, and a large portion of joy and love, that I have the memories of lumpy gravy with my family.
I can't find the Boston Globe recipe online. It was from 11/24/03 titled "Foolproof Gravy". It was by Sheryl Julian, who published a dumbed-down version of it yesterday in the newspaper. "Turkey Gravy From Scratch" by Julia Moskin, 11/19/08 (NYT) may be online but they won't let me in since I am not a subscriber.
The day before Turkey (tomorrow), I make a huge stockpot of turkey stock. Turkey necks, turkey wings, two packages of giblets will be the start. I roast them until golden and/or light brown at 375 degrees, then pop them gently into the stockpot. Skim the foam that materializes for about 20 minutes, then give up, and add the rest of the stuff. Carrots (2-3), onions (3), dried mushrooms (porcini), parsley, trimmings from carrots, parsnips, parsley stalks, peppercorns, bay leaves (2), minimal salt if any at all, thyme, and about 6 quarts of water. Ish. I partially cover it, because the water wicks up between the insert and the side of the pot, and splatters everywhere. The partial covering prevents this. Simmer for about 6 hours. It smells wonderful. It is something quiet and gentle to tend through the rest of the day's cooking. I like the brain tickle of hearing it blurple, and knowing I should check the heat.
When the stock is lovely and golden, and the vegetables are soft, I take out the insert, drain it all, and toss the vegetables. I put the meat on another plate, and let it cool. Then I cut off all the good turkey meat from the necks and the wings. Giblets that are mostly meat can also be used. I coarsely chop them in a food processor (I use a small Mouli), and reserve them til the next day. The stock goes in the refrigerator until Turkey Day.
I decant six cups of stock into a saucepan. I add a roux made of 1/3 c of flour and 1/3 c of butter that has been toasted earlier in the day. (Roux is a trade-off: the longer the toast, the less thickening it provides, but the better the color.) I am a total cheater, and also do what my mother did: I add enough Gravy Master (very small amount) to darken the gravy so it looks like what Mom made. Then all is right with the world. I stir in the Mouli'd meat, and it thickens the gravy quite nicely. Some years, I don't even add the pan drippings. Now I do, and horrors I don't defat the drippings. I scrape up the brown bits, ladle in some lovely turkey juice, stir it all together, and it is gravy. No one has had the courage or bad manners to complain. I love my gravy.
The rest of the stock, plus leftover meat, leftover vegetables, and leftover herby barley salad all become part of turkey soup. Leftover turkey soup is frozen for winter soothing.
Off I go now to watch Mr. E make me a crust for the Three Nut Cranberry tart. There may be dinner in there somewhere, too, and I also have to exercise this evening. Then I will clean some more, knit a few rows, fall into bed, wake up tomorrow, and REALLY get the cooking going.
Blurple. A precise word. You may wish to know that a torta rolled via cheesecloth does not always roll perfectly smoothly onto the let-rest-in-fridge-for-48-hours plate. Humph. There may have been blurpling involved, alas.
Posted by: Lynn | Tuesday, November 20, 2018 at 09:03 PM
My mother made gravy EXACTLY the same way, down to that damn Gravy Master! (I have no less than 3bottles in my pantry.) Or something called Kitchen Bouquet, which was apparently interchangeable. I taught her the Wondra trick after “mastering the art of French cooking” with Julia. My gravy base was done last week and is now thawing. ( Trick from Cook’s magazine: put rack near bottom of oven and put roasting pan on a pizza stone, for browner drippings.). Will let you know how that works!
Posted by: Marcia | Tuesday, November 20, 2018 at 09:13 PM
My mom was a master at gravy and made it on the stove with the pan drippings but I'm like you and I make it ahead using pretty much the same technique. And always a smidge of Gravy Master!
Posted by: Carole | Wednesday, November 21, 2018 at 05:38 AM
This is my first year for make ahead gravy, although my recipe is VERY simple compared to yours (this is my first year for T-day dinner because I'm usually a guest somewhere else). In any case, I'm grateful for make ahead gravy, but yours is a cut above any gravy I have ever seen. I would love your gravy, too!!
Posted by: margene | Wednesday, November 21, 2018 at 10:00 AM
Thanks for the image of the simmering turkey stock. Oddly satisfying.
Posted by: claudia | Friday, November 23, 2018 at 08:16 AM
That gravy sounds sooooo good, and the fridge Jenga is impressive!
Posted by: grumperina | Sunday, December 09, 2018 at 10:30 AM