I’ve made a fair number of turkeys in my day. I was a pretty precocious child when it came to the kitchen, and I think that I was a freshman in high school the first time that I declared that I was going to make Thanksgiving. And this was no joking around Thanksgiving. This was a Thanksgiving with lists, with weeks of prep, with freezing, with soup and salad and biscuits, and two pies, and stuffing, and two sides, and a turkey with gravy.

I’ve since simplified.

Now, running Thanksgiving on my own for the second year, I’m sticking to the vague potluck method. Vague as in, I will make the turkey and a vegetarian entree, and probably also a salad (likely a version of this raw kale salad, but with slightly more delicate chard) and some munchies (likely a mini version of these arancini, with butternut squash risotto) for beforehand, to be popped along with a bottle of Prosecco.

But I won’t be making any pies or any other sides, and I definitely won’t be making gravy. Every year, I think I’m going to make gravy, and every year, by the time gravy-making time comes around, I just want to be done, and I look at the shimmering pan juices, and I think, well, those look plenty delicious. And I think they are. Any other day, maybe I would make gravy, but paradoxically, on Thanksgiving, I think pan juices are just fine.

At any rate — let’s talk turkey. After maybe eight or nine turkeys, I can say with some great confidence that this is the best turkey I’ve ever made. It was so easy, and the salt brine makes it so juicy and so flavorful — and forgiving. Not a part of this bird was dried out, which is near impossible, given the different cooking rates of breast and thigh/leg on these enormous birds.

There was no question in my mind that I was going to make this turkey again…until I spied this tandoori turkey, and I couldn’t resist. I will report back. It’s hard, I’m finding, to be faithful to just one turkey recipe, even when it’s such a winner. What do they say about love and turkeys?

But this, my friends, this one is a winner. I’ve never met a turkey recipe before that was so good that I was conflicted about leaving it. I will come back to you, Salt-Roasted Turkey. Someday, I will come back.

Salt-Roasted Turkey with Lemon and Oregano

Serves 8-10 (says Bon Appétit), for us 11 people only ate half of it, along with the sides

Adapted from Bon Appétit

NB: If you, unlike me, have the stamina to make gravy, then check out this recipe for Greek-inspired fresh oregano and giblet pan gravy

Ingredients

Rub

- 1/3 cup coarse kosher salt (preferably Diamond Crystal brand)

- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano or 1 tablespoon dried oregano

- 2 tablespoons finely grated lemon peel

- 2 tablespoons finely chopped garlic

- 1 tablespoon ground black pepper

Turkey

- 1 14- to 16-pound turkey (clean out the neck, heart, and gizzard and reserve for stock)

- 3 lemons, coarsely chopped

- 2 celery stalks, chopped

- 1 onion, chopped

- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano

- 2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme

- 2 teaspoons ground black pepper

- 1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt

- 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided

- 6 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided

- 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 cups low-salt chicken broth, divided

1. For salt rub: Mix all rub ingredients in a bowl.
2. For turkey: Rinse turkey and pat dry with paper towels. Empty out anything else in the turkey (metal inserts, fat pads, etc.), so that you just have turkey. Place the turkey on the roasting pan you’ll use and sprinkle 4 Tbsp. salt rub inside cavities. Sprinkle remaining salt rub over the turkey and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Refrigerate turkey 18 to 24 hours.
3. To roast turkey: Preheat oven to 350ºF with rack set at the lowest spot in the oven. Rinse turkey of the salt and pat dry (rinse the roasting pan too, if there’s a lot of salt in there). Place the turkey back in the roasting pan.
4. Combine lemons, celery stalks, onion, oregano, thyme, black pepper, salt, ¼ c. olive oil and 3 Tbsp. lemon juice in a large bowl. Spoon everything into the main cavity of the bird.
5. Whisk remaining ¼ c. oil and remaining 3 Tbsp. lemon juice. Tuck wing tips under. Brush with lemon oil (or spoon over and rub in with your hands if you don’t have a brush).
6. Place roasting pan with turkey on the bottom rack of the oven. Pour 2 c. stock into the roasting pan. Roast turkey for one hour. After an hour, brush all over with remaining lemon oil.
7. Roast turkey for 45 minutes; after 45 minutes, pour 1 cup stock into pan.
8. Roast turkey for another 45 minutes; after 45 minutes, pour ½ – 1 ½ c. stock into pan (to maintain the level of the liquid). Turn pan around to distribute the heat evenly.
9. Continue to roast turkey until a thermometer stuck in the thickest part of the thigh registers 165ºF. (It should be about 45 minutes more, but if it looks done to you – golden, crisped skin, etc. — check it out earlier.)
10. Take turkey out and transfer it to the serving platter (reserve the roasting pan with juices). Tent with foil and let rest 30-45 minutes (temp will rise 5 to 10 degrees while it rests).
11. Carve and serve with pan juices or Greek-inspired fresh oregano and giblet pan gravy.

It’s been a long week, folks, both in terms of work and life, not to mention weather — it’s winter now, in Minnesota, which just makes everything that much more difficult. Into a long, difficult week, enter broccoli! Broccoli is not one of my faves (in fact, I’d call it a least-faves), but roasting it really transforms it from the bland, waterlogged beast it can be. Add chilies, lemon, anchovies, as well as red onion and garlic, and you’ve got yourself a vision in green.

I made this for the first time, and then the second time, this past week, and it has quickly become one of my most favorite dishes, both to cook and eat. It takes maybe five minutes to put together and 15-20 to roast. The results, basically, are insane. Insanely savory, both from the caramelization of the broccoli and the melting umami flavor of the anchovies; insanely flavored, still further, by the lemon and the chili. The only danger here is that you will eat an entire head of broccoli, if left to your own devices (just one more piece…). I would have never thought I’d be saying that about broccoli. But I am. And I wish I had some right now.

This recipe is inspired by a recent New York Magazine, but their original version of this recipe, courtesy of Franny’s, was a bit too futzy for my taste. Now, I do love Franny’s, and I’m sure their version tastes amazing, but there was a lot of tossing and removing and separating involved, not to mention the colatura on the ingredients list. Colatura, it turns out, are “essentially, cured Italian anchovy drippings.” As much as I would like to know what that could even mean, I don’t live anywhere near Brooklyn Larder, Franny’s shop, so I will have to wait to find out. Or one of you can investigate for me!

So, I did what any self-respecting, exhausted grad student would do: I threw everything in a pan and roasted it. I didn’t do a thing to the broccoli other than rinse them; otherwise, all of it went in, stalk, leaves, and all. I kept my garlic cloves whole. I used canned anchovies (a kitchen staple) instead of colatura. I’d like to say that someday I’ll try the official version of this dish, but mine came out so well…

Note: I’ve tagged this as vegetarian and vegan, because some vegetarians I know would still eat the anchovies. For vegans, this will be a different dish, but I imagine still quite delicious without the anchovies entirely.

Roasted Broccoli with Chilies, Anchovy, and Lemon

Loosely adapted from New York Magazine

Serves 2

Ingredients

-       1 head of broccoli (I bought mine at the famers’ market, where it came as a quart), cut up (you can use florets, stalk, and leaves here)

-       juice of ½ lemon

-       a few cloves of garlic, peeled

-       ½ tin of anchovies, roughly chopped

-       2 red chili peppers – I used Thai chiles, finely chopped

-       ½ red onion, roughly chopped

-       olive oil

-       salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350º F.
2. Combine all ingredients in a baking dish. Douse with olive oil. Sprinkle a generous amount of salt and freshly ground pepper over. Mix.
3. Roast for 15-20 minutes, checking and stirring occasionally, until broccoli and onions are at desired level of roastedness.

Having been in Europe for spring and most of summer, I missed the opportunity to sign up for a CSA share.  I was devastated until I saw an announcement for a fruit-only CSA, only just starting in August and being distributed quite close to my new Brooklyn apartment.  In a euphoric fit, I signed up for a half-share.  I saw lots of stone fruits in my future (so does Cathy from Not Eating Out in New York!), as well as a few peach capreses.  But what to do with all that other fruit?  Enter canning!

I signed up to take a class at the Brooklyn Kitchen with a professional canner.  As scary as it seems at first glance (fatal food poisoning! Lots of boiling water!), it turns out that if you follow a few simple rules of thumb, your chances of accidentally growing botulism or causing yourself any other harm are actually quite low.  The rules are:  keep the acidity of your food high (or the pH low), keep the temperature of the food high, keep all of your surfaces clean, and keep the food in whatever form of processing you use for a sufficient amount of time (if applicable).

What do you need to can?

This is the equipment our instructor recommended:

- If you are using the water bath method: a large pot; a jar rack or lots of clean towels for the bottom of the water bath; jar tongs.

- A large pot for boiling water and sterilizing jars

- A smaller pot for sterilizing screw rings and lids (these do not need to be boiling) and a magnetic wand for lifting the lids out of the water.

- Canning jars, lids, and screw rings.

- A ladle and funnel for scooping the food into the cans.

- Clean cloth and paper towels.

What should you know about acidity and canning (and botulism)?

Not to wig everyone out, but the bacteria spores that cause botulism are actually found on most fresh food.  However, because they only grow where there is no air, botulism is a singular risk of canning, since in the process of canning you are removing all air from the area around your food.

Most food has a low level of acidity.  This is true for everything from poultry to peanuts, and it applies to almost all fresh vegetables (including the ones you would can).  Most fruits are more acidic, but may not be acidic in and of themselves to ensure safe canning.  In order to keep botulism and other bacteria out, you must ensure that the acidity of your food drops below 4.6 pH.  To do this, most canning recipes include lemon or lime juice, citric acid, or a vinegar (for savory foods like pickles and tomatoes).

Similarly, it is important to make sure that your food reaches a high enough temperature for a long enough time before placing it in a can.  It is recommended that food reach a temperature of at least 180 degrees Farenheit, either before being placed in cans using the hot-fill method or during processing in the hot water bath (see below).

There are three methods for processing your canned goods (processing seems to be a jargon-y term meaning to seal the can and ensure proper preservation):

- The boiling-water bath – after you have prepared your food and placed it in the jars, you place the jars in a boiling water bath, covered with at least three inches of water, for a prescribed amount of time to ensure a seal.  The USDA Canning Guide indicates processing times for many common canning foods.

- The hot-fill – this is best for small batches of more acidic food and smaller-sized cans.  By placing sufficiently hot food in a small can and immediately closing the can, you will create a vacuum that will in turn create a seal.

- The pressure canner.  I did not learn anything about this method, but apparently you cannot use it for making jams.

And now, for the main event: how to make something to be canned!

Blueberry Lemon Honey Jam

Ingredients

10 pints of washed blueberries

1 cup of honey

Zest of 3 lemons

Juice of 5 lemons (you can also use lemon verbena)

How to prepare:

Place all ingredients in a large pot over medium-high heat and bring to a boil.  After it boils, lower heat and simmer for about an hour.  Stir often to avoid scorching the bottom of the mix, particularly as the jam thickens.  Taste occasionally, add extra sweetener to taste.  We did not add any when we made this recipe.

Test to see if the jam is ready by placing a small drop on a plate that has been in a freezer.  When everything reaches room temperature, if the jam is ready it will remain congealed.  If it is not quite cooked down enough, a runny ring of water will form around the edge.

When the jam is ready, clean the lip of the jar an additional time using hot water and a paper towel.  Use the ladle and funnel to scoop the jam into the cans, leaving 1/4” headspace at the top.

Again, clean the inside and outside of the lip with a paper towel and hot water.

Using the magnetic wand, place the lids on the jars.  Remove the screw rings and screw tightly to jar.

We were using small jars, so we used the hot-fill method.  Allow the sealed jars to cool at room temperature until the lids pop, indicating they have sealed.

Because this jam is low in sugar, it will only last about 2-3 weeks once opened, and will store for about 2 years before opening.

A few weeks ago I made a vinaigrette with lemon juice instead of vinegar and some maple syrup as a sweetener, and I immediately fell in love with the combination.

Apparently, I am not the only one: Just a week later, I found myself at Back Forty – a terrific joint – eating brussels sprouts with lemon and maple syrup.

“Hey!,” I said to myself, you can do this. So I did.

Lemons, where have you been all my life? I can’t believe it has taken me this long to realize how terrific fresh citrus is. I’ve used fresh lemon or lime juice in plenty of recipes, but that vinaigrette just blew me away. I won’t try to quantify the magic of citrus, just take me at my word and try to use more of it.

I believe that the brussels sprouts at Back Forty were oven-roasted, but I decided to do mine on the stove top for no reason in particular. I was pleased with the result, but I’d like to try it in the oven at some point as well for comparison’s sake. The trick here is to caramelize the sprouts as much as possible without burning them

Brussels Sprouts with Lemon and Maple Syrup

Trim any excess stem from the brussels sprouts, halve them and remove any loose or brown leaves.

Steam them until they are fork tender. You basically want them to be done cooking at this point. This could take anywhere from five to ten minutes depending on the size of the sprouts and how you are steaming them. If you’ve got a steamer, great. If not, just put the sprouts in a covered sauce pan with about an inch of water and keep an eye on them to be sure all the water doesn’t boil off. Drain them when they’re done.

Over medium-high heat, coat a skillet (cast iron is great if you’ve got it) in a thin layer of olive oil or butter. Add sprouts, shake them to spread them out, and then leave them the hell alone. You want them to get a nice brown crust, and this won’t happen if you are constantly stirring or shaking. Give them a minute or two and then check on how the caramelizing is going.

Once the sprouts are brown, add in lemon juice and maple syrup. The ratio here is up to you, but I’d recommend 1 tablespoon of maple syrup and the juice of half a lemon for each pound. Now you can toss and stir to your heart’s delight, until the sauce thickens and becomes more of a glaze.

Serve. Eat. Enjoy.

I love edamame, and my realization a few years ago that these sushi shop staples could be had at my local grocery store was very exciting for me (Is my life this dull?).  In fact, bags of frozen edamame – shelled or unshelled – are so cheap that I realized how outrageous  it is that restaurants will charge you $4 for tiny bowl-full and stopped ordering them when I eat out.

But even though I started buying edamame regularly, I still thought of them as nothing more than a snack. Basically a popcorn substitute for when I felt like shaking things up. I always bought the kind in the shells and gave no thought to other culinary possibilities, despite Claire’s excellent advice.

That changed last week when I reviewed a sandwich shop for the other blog I write for. My tasty panini came with a perhaps even tastier side of edamame salad that was so good, I made some myself the very next day. The salad is great warm or cold, can be made in about 5 minutes, and is a great change of pace from your standard green vegetables. What’s not to like?

Most of you probably know that edamame are soybeans, but I bet most of you don’t know – I didn’t – that they are actually unripe soybeans. Mature soybeans – like those used for oil, tofu, etc. – actually turn brown and dark before they’re picked. I have no idea whatsoever, but I’m guessing they’re not as good for snacking at this point. Who knows though, maybe they’re just not as aesthetically pleasing. Any soybean farmers out there have an answer for us?

The recipe here is honestly contained in the title. Heat frozen unshelled edamame in some fashion, and then add lemon and mint. That’s it. I warmed the edamame in a saute pan, but I actually don’t think this was the best idea. It took a while to get them evenly heated, and it started to seem like some of them were going to burn. Next time I’d follow package directions and heat them in the microwave or boil them. Just be sure to drain before dressing.

I used one bagfull of edamame, which I believe was 12 ozs. To this I added the juice of half a lemon and as much of a bunch of mint as I had the patience to chop up. I also salted it somewhat aggressively. This ratio was pretty much right, but after sitting for a few mintues, the lemony edge seemed to dissipate. I don’t know if I didn’t mix it up well enough at first or if the beans absorbed some of the lemon as they sat, but I wound up adding the juice of the other half of the lemon as well. Taste as you go and you’ll be fine, which is just good advice in general.

I am not a big fan of lemon desserts. Or fruit in desserts. But for my going away at work (way, way back in April), my lovely lovely boss decided we’d make these lemon-raspberry cupcakes (and also some super chocolatey cookies). And, as it turned out, they are adorable. And tasty! So hooey to me, and everyone like me, who is a lemon and/or fruit dessert detractor.

I think I am still partial to a more robust cupcake — red velvet, I’m looking at you — but there is certainly a place and time for these sweethearts. Tea time, in particular, I’d say. And, if you use neon food coloring like we did, then anytime really. Because, as the photo above demonstrates, neon food coloring makes everything way more awesome.

Plus, they have buried treasure…

…By which I mean: When I was a kid, I  had the Klutz book Kids Cooking: A Very Slightly Messy Manual (anyone?). One of the recipes was for “buried treasure” muffins — which had jam centers, just like these. Consider these the ever-so-slightly grown  up (and hipsterfied) version of those, but just as easy and klutz and kid-proof.

Buried Treasure Lemon-Raspberry Cupcakes

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Makes 12

Ingredients

- 3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

- 3 cups powdered sugar, divided

- 4 1/2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel, divided

- 2 large eggs

- 1 1/4 cups self-rising flour

- 1/4 cup buttermilk

- 4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided

- 12 teaspoons seedless raspberry jam

- Fresh raspberries (for garnish)

- Imperative/Optional (depending on if your point of view is awesome/lame): neon food coloring!

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Line 12 muffin cups with paper liners.

2. Using electric mixer, beat butter, 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, and 3 teaspoons lemon peel in large bowl until blended, then beat until fluffy and pale yellow. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating to blend after each addition. Beat in half of flour. Add buttermilk and 2 tablespoons lemon juice; beat to blend. Beat in remaining flour.

3. Drop 1 rounded tablespoonful batter into each muffin liner. Spoon 1 teaspoon raspberry jam over. Cover with remaining batter, dividing equally.

4. Bake cupcakes until tester inserted halfway into centers comes out clean, about 23 minutes. Cool cupcakes in pan on rack.

5. Meanwhile, make icing. Whisk remaining 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, 2 tablespoons lemon juice, and 1 1/2 teaspoons lemon peel in small bowl. Add neon food coloring to achieve desired hue. Spoon half of icing over 6 cupcakes. Let stand until icing sets, about 30 minutes. Garnish with raspberries.