Learn How To Bake The Perfect Cake
To make Kafka's Giblet Gravy to go with the bird, see here. Barbara Kafka’s high heat-roasting technique ruffled feathers in the 1990s (500 degrees! No rack, no trussing, no basting!)—until everyone realized it gives you crackly-skinned turkey in no time at all. There's no salt, which isn’t a typo.
Our current obsession: half-veggie burgers. This recipe amps up ground turkey with caramelized mushrooms and onions. Dream pairings: Swiss cheese and Russian dressing, on a pretzel bun if you can find one.
This sloppy joe is native to New Jersey, where the term—elsewhere reserved for tomato saucy ground meat on a bun—means something different entirely. Here, it is a cold, triple-decker, rye bread sandwich, stacked high with meat, cheese, cabbage slaw, and so much Russian dressing.
Purloo is a dish of economy. It is a dish of diversity. It is a dish that tells many a family history simply by ingredients the cook chooses to use. It is of Low Country origin. It is meant to serve many and it is meant to be comforting.
Is it just me or do you always crave something spicy and brothy after a big holiday meal? Something bold and punchy to smack you out of your stupor? For the past few years, after every Thanksgiving, I’ve made one of two things: either a bathtub-sized bowl of fiery instant ramen or, if I’ve sequestered enough leftover turkey, this fragrant Thai-style curry.
The most important part of a leftover turkey casserole? A really good sauce—one with enough muscle and flavor to pull all the odds and ends together, transforming them into a new dish
If your family is anything like mine, you’ll have tons of leftovers after Thanksgiving—especially the glorious turkey.
Buttermilk-brined meat is food science in action. The technique, which likely hails from the Southern tradition of soaking chicken in buttermilk overnight to tenderize it before dredging and frying the bird, was recently repopularized for turkeys by Samin Nosrat.
When I was younger, this was quite arguably my favorite part of Thanksgiving – even though it didn’t occur until a day later! And though I know the addition of nutmeg isn’t original to my family, Lord bless whoever thought of that.
Lean meat, as a rule, needs help. Here, inspired by traditional Parsi kebabs, Niloufer Ichaporia King jams it full of moisture (and flavor) with a mess of herbs, alliums, ginger, and chiles.
This dish isn’t traditional to anyone, but was inspired by my parents’ refusal to eat roast turkey, and the time they halted my Thanksgiving protest by bribing me with spaghetti and meatballs
This batter has spinach and Parm, with a hint of nutmeg. When it comes to fillings, turkey and provolone work perfectly, but the sky's the limit here, so experiment with it.
You could use the turkey carcass to make a stock with a mirepoix of carrot, celery, and onions—or go the easier route of using a store-bought broth. Make sure to grab a low-sodium option as that will give you more control over the seasoning.
live for the day-after-holiday-feast sandwich, and giving it the Monte Cristo treatment with a few slices of soft, gently sweet St Pierre Brioche Loaf takes this celebration of leftovers to the next level.
These are also delicious boiled until tender, then sautéed in butter (I top mine with grated Parm and black pepper for the ultimate comfort food snack)."
Puerto Rican tradition of infusing turkey with the flavors of a traditional pig roast, will change your Thanksgiving game forever.
Mayo is certainly not a traditional ingredient in meatballs. But it’s not an unusual choice, either, when you consider its parts: egg, oil, and a small amount of vinegar or lemon juice, all whisked or blended together.
I can't make this enough—the last time I had to bump it up to four pounds of meat to satisfy the crowd! I've made it with beef and chicken too, but turkey is my fave.
This is my go-to gravy recipe. It's great with roasted chicken or turkey. - melissav —melissav
This recipe has been in the works for years - additions and subtractions along the way, tweaks here and there.