We had some very tasty wines. In addition to Beaujolais and a number of my perennial Trader Joe's favorites, we had Schug Sonoma Hills Pinot Noir, Cocodrilo Mendoza Cabernet (a very tasty, polished Argentinian wine), and then we enjoyed two wines of note the next day: Three Rings Shiraz and Clarendon Hills Brookman Vineyard Syrah (a powerful leather, pomegranate and spice-packed brute that we drank for last year's anniversary).If I do say so myself, we ate well. The picture does not exactly illustrate the amount of garlic mashed potatoes I made. This is an 8-quart stockpot, mostly full of spuds:
I roasted a lot of garlic. Bryan took this pic, and it's only as much garlic as I could fit in my hand. There was plenty more. I pureed it and put most of it in the mashed potatoes, and a generous amount went into the garlic butter.
Here is the complete day's menu:It was an enjoyable meal, and the conversation was ebullient. Lindz and I put some real work into making the house a welcoming place (getting a big chunk of cabinet installation done, cleaning the house, cooking, etc.), and I'd say we succeeded.
Culinary Postscript: Gravy
I put a lot (probably a disproportionate amount) of care and energy into gravy. I think it is an often-undervalued item, a potent plate-unifier and vehicle for flavor. This year, I did not succeed in finding turkey wings on my last-minute trip to the Food Lion. I usually use these to make turkey stock so I don't have to rely on drippings from the main bird (they can get burned, it's a tricky, messy procedure to get them out of the pan, and you can't have them until late in the meal prep). Nevertheless, this year's gravy was good. I think my thin, sharp new Japanese knife played an important part. For the first time, I cut my aromatics truly fine. It makes a difference. Gravy is an expression of care, attention to detail, the innate flavor of the ingredients, and technique. Here is the 2007 Blauhaus Gravy:
Three carrots, brunoise cut
Three ribs of celery, brunoise cut
One medium onion, minced
Three cloves of garlic, minced
One bay leaf
One star anise
One chile de arbol
A fistful of fresh thyme sprigs
One sprig of fresh rosemary
One quart of organic chicken stock
One turkey neck
A gob of chicken Better then Bouillon, to taste
Turkey drippings (they didn't burn)
Blond roux (I think it was 3 tbsp of butter and about 1/3 c flour)
A bit of cornstarch at the end, as necessary
Sweat the carrots, celery, onion and garlic in a bit of olive oil. When they've softened a bit, add the chicken stock, turkey neck, anise, bay leaf, chile, thyme and rosemary. Simmer this slowly, stirring occasionally, while you're doing everything else. We're talking about a few hours here. Add water if you think you're reducing too much. Reduction means flavor, so balance how good it tastes with how much gravy you'll need.
Within an hour of service (but before you're dealing with getting the bird out of the oven), make some blond roux in a smaller (1 1/2 or 2 qt) saucepan. Strain the gravy into this roux pan. Squeeze what liquid you can out of the solids and discard them. Whisk. Whisk. Bring it to a simmer. Whisk. Adjust the seasoning with the Better than Bouillon (I treat it as salt in a situation like this). The gravy should be a bit thicker now. Cover it and set it aside, off the heat. Deal with the turkey and stuffing. At this point, I added the drippings while the bird was resting, and I thickened it just a bit more with cornstarch. The roux makes for a better consistency, so I didn't use cornstarch alone for thickening this.
One of the things I love about Thanksgiving is how this meal is the essence of what I see as the greatest cooking: turning humble ingredients into very special food. There were no expensive or exotic ingredients here. Next year, I want to get an heirloom turkey, or perhaps a goose, and one might consider that semi-exotic. To someone without a farm, perhaps it is. Anyway, that's next year.
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