Thanksgiving 2013: Wings Of An Angel
So, without waxing too sentimental, this was the first Thanksgiving without my father, who passed away a month ago. He lives (lived) in South Carolina, so I more often was just able to talk to him by phone than get to enjoy the yearly dinners he always prepared, much I did in my youth.
And as you may know, my dad—a life-long chef, caterer, and host—has been by far my greatest culinary influence. Especially when he told me years ago, after I mentioned how much I loved copying his awesome recipes, that I needed to not copy his recipes, but to create my own, using every resource of my history and experience for inspiration.
I have been doing that for this latter half of my life, hopefully to some success. But I knew I had to cook something this past Thanksgiving, that would both honor his influence as well as his advice.
So eventually realizing through a number of random events that I would be cooking for just myself, I decided I would cook not a whole bird, but bake some turkey wings. It was a dish my dad converted me to when I was very young, and it quickly became a favorite of mine. He'd almost always make sure that he had some already baked when I visited him.
His version was very homey; he just lightly seasoned the wings, and would baked them with celery, carrot, onion, and a dissolved chicken bouillon cube. I used pre-smoked turkey wings, rubbed them with Dijon mustard, sage, parsley, smoked paprika, salt & pepper. I chopped some celery and sliced some shallots and added them to the wings, already in a bath of chicken stock and lemon juice, waiting to be cover in foil and put in the oven.
I decided on rye bread for my dressing (it's "stuffing" when it's inside the bird), tossing it with cooked wild rice scallion, diced smoked bacon, dried cranberries, celery, thyme, butter, and chicken stock. I just mixed all those ingredients together in a big bowl before transferring to a pan ready for the oven.
I halved brussels sprouts, tossed them into a pot of rendered chopped bacon, minced garlic, dried basil, and a pinch of cumin. Pan. Oven.
And lastly I slow-poached cut-up red C and Yukon potatoes in equal parts chicken stock and salted butter—enough to just cover the spuds—and some dried rosemary. (I am fully aware of how much better these dishes would be if I used fresh herbs, but I didn't decide on such an herbal "route" until I got back home, and was not about to go back to the insanity that was a Fairway supermarket Thanksgiving morning!)
The turkey wings were of course the first to go in the oven. Covered, the heat and pressure would ensure the meat would cook through and rendered the fat to the point where the meat would release from the bone, all while keeping the flavor and aromas from escaping.
I had to play musical chairs with my other two pans, since my small oven can only fit two large trays at a time. So it was the stuffing first, which I would enjoy more at room temp than I would the brussel sprouts, which I would want hot.
Once I swapped out the dressing for the brussel sprouts, my potatoes had cooked through. Over the same heat and using all the liquid still in the small pot, a mashed the potatoes, then whisked them so they would start to set while the water was evaporate all while aerating the potatoes to keep them fluffy.
It was during this time that I uncovered the turkey wings, poured the drippings and pan juices into a large sauté pan, then put the wings uncovered back in the oven, turning up the temp to get a good crisp on the skin. Meanwhile in my pan, I added some fresh cracked pepper and a splash of worcestershire sauce to the pan juices and drippings, then whisked in some flour to thicken as it it reduced.
It spooned quite nicely over the wings, and was a great compliment to the mashed potatoes, once they, the sprouts, and the dressing eventually hit the plates.
I said "plates"—plural—because, I, yes, made a plate for my dad as well. And regardless of my non-religious leanings, the feeling that he is with me and watching over me is very real. And very soothing.
Which is great. Because he's been so many things to me over the course of my life—father, friend, coach, counselor, teacher, instructor, advocator, sponsor, hero, etc.—he now gets to be something I never really understood the idea of, until now. He gets to be my angel.
So he gets to continue feeding my soul. And as long as he's going to do that, it was only fair to—this first time around giving thanks with him—feed him as well.
Bun Apple Tea!
KACNYC
BAKED HERB-RUBBED SMOKED TURKEY WINGS with SHALLOTS | Rye Stuffing with Wild Rice, Dried Cranberries, Thyme | Butter-Poached Mixed Potato Mash with Gravy | Roasted Brussel Sprouts with Garlic, Bacon
