When Nick went to the butcher on Thursday to pick up our Thanksgiving turkey, he was met with an unpleasant surprise. The 4-kilo turkey I had ordered was actually 5.4 kilos! After some debate and bargaining with the butcher, it came out that that was the smallest bird they had received that day, and they had indeed reserved it for me. A three-pound difference might not sound like a big deal, but when the bird costs 6 euros 50 a kilo, and we were already unsure if a whole turkey would fit into our tiny oven, and it was already 3pm on Thanksgiving Day, it felt disastrous.
After some oven reconfiguration, we managed to get the turkey in without it touching the heating element, and it roasted up beautifully – since turkey isn’t the commodity in France that it is in the US, the ones you get here are never frozen or wrapped in plastic. The air-dried skin browns and crisps like no other turkey I’ve made, and the flavor, like that of French chickens, is somehow just more. The menu went off just as planned, except in lieu of the brittle I served the potimarron pie with bourbon-maple whipped cream.
We were joined by five friends, and actually have very few leftovers (one scoop of mashed potatoes, one spoonful of Brussels sprouts, one sliver of pie…) except for the turkey, of which about two and a half pounds remain. Having spent 35 euros – that’s right, upwards of 50 bucks – we don’t want to let a single scrap go to waste. Yesterday afternoon I made stock from the carcass, after Nick had cleaned it of meat. Meanwhile, he simmered a piece of kombu in a pot of water in preparation for a very welcome light lunch: turkey miso soup.
If you’ve never made miso soup before, you’re missing out on one of the simplest, fastest, and tastiest soups around. It’s as easy as whisking a couple of spoonfuls of miso into a pot of hot dashi (the Japanese staple broth made with water, kombu seaweed, and bonito tuna flakes – which we have as yet been unable to find in Paris, so we did without – steeped for about five minutes) and garnishing with a few little pieces of whatever. It should be brothy. In this case, we used a bit of shredded turkey and some snipped chives, leftover from the mashed potatoes. It made a fantastic day-after-Thanksgiving lunch.
But there’s plenty more turkey to be eaten. As soon as I’m done writing, I plan on heading down to the kitchen and mixing up a big batch of herbed turkey salad: mayo, sage, chives, parsley, maybe a bit of crème fraîche and shallot. I’ll eat it for lunch on top of some lettuce with a dollop of cranberry sauce, and hopefully there will be enough left to make a couple of weekday sandwiches.
Tonight or tomorrow I’ll put that fresh turkey stock to use in a turkey risotto. Garnishes will include the rest of the fresh sage, chopped turkey (duh) and grated aged provolone.
So what are you doing with your turkey leftovers?
Originally published on Croque-Camille.