While shopping at the Union Square farmer’s market, Mr. Henry passed a stand selling fresh, farm-raised turkeys. Small, firm, not fat, they looked almost like a different species from the big-breasted turkey grandmother used to make. He tucked a 7 ½ pound bird into his backpack and boarded the subway for home.
After sitting for two days in dry salt and black pepper, the turkey was ready to be smeared with butter, sprinkled with paprika, and stuffed with fresh sage, savory, and onion. (He covered the breast in cheesecloth infused with more butter.) The plan was to shock the skin at 425º for half an hour and then turn the temperature down to 350º for the remaining hour and a half.
But this was not your grandmother’s turkey.
Organic, farm-raised birds of today don’t have much fat. After half an hour the pan was nearly devoid of drippings and the bird looked dry. Mr. Henry quickly poured some white vermouth into the pan. After another half an hour the pan was dry once again and the bird looked like leather. More vermouth!
The final result was a bird with crispy skin and great flavor, but a dry exterior. Next time he buys a bird as lean as this one, he will wrap the whole bird in parchment. A small, free-range turkey simply does not contain enough internal moisture to survive two hours in the oven without some protection. (Mr. Henry’s English friend Louise pours an entire bottle of white wine into the drippings pan. Her gravy is amazing.)
The heart, gizzard and neck roasted in the pan, as did assorted vegetables – celery, carrot, onion – which came out nearly black but delicious, nonetheless. Chopped neck and heart combined with the deglazed pan drippings (more vermouth!) made giblet gravy. The roasted gizzard went straight to the stock pot followed by those delicious roasted bones.
Chopped dried apricots soaked in Madeira, which unexpectedly were a hit with the kids, were this year’s surprise ingredient in the sage and bread stuffing. Red and white Swiss chard drizzled with balsamic made a delightful vegetable.
It sounds like your turkey might be an heirloom breed called a Midget White. You can read about them here:
http://www.feathersite.com/Poultry/Turkeys/BRKMidget.html
Comment by Phyllis — November 22, 2009 @ 6:14 pm
Hey M. Henry, you are making my mouth water… Re: the dryness, how about brining the bird?
Comment by June — November 25, 2009 @ 8:49 pm
Thanks, Phyllis. Perhaps it was a midget white. The meat was dense and flavorful.
And as for brining the bird, June, yes, that option yields good results – moist flesh and brown skin – but you risk rendering the meat a little spongy. Mr. H. prefers the dry salt rub for two or three days in which the moisture drawn out by the salt is slowly reabsorbed. The bird self-brines, if you will, without getting soggy.
Comment by Mr. Henry — November 26, 2009 @ 1:28 am
Spongy! That’s it! We got a farm chicken and a store chicken and smoked them. There were only slight differences in flavor (perhaps the smoking obscured them) but the textures were remarkably different. The farm chicken was firm and solid and the store chicken was soggy and spongy. I did not like the texture at all. However, I did not dislike it enough to pay four times the price for the farm chicken.
Comment by class factotum — December 2, 2009 @ 8:16 am
I would gently suggest butterflying the chicken and then cooking it for less than 2hrs. This cooks illustrated method works on all birds and produces tender, not over cooked, meat with the slimiest of birds.
Comment by c. — January 25, 2010 @ 5:13 pm
sorry, meant to say “butterflying the turkey” my bad.
Comment by c. — January 25, 2010 @ 5:14 pm