Well, it’s happened again. My inbox is full of emails about Black Friday sales, but it seems like just last week I flipped my calendar to January 2023.
And–as happens every year–I’m remembering past Thanksgivings, (maybe you are too), where I was living, who I shared the holiday with, and of course what we ate.
The first Thanksgiving I cooked solo was in 1987 at my mother’s house in Baltimore when she was dying from lung cancer in what turned out to be the last four weeks of her life. I was visiting from Albuquerque, New Mexico where I had recently moved. Mom was fifty-two. I was twenty-eight.
Taking responsibility for cooking the turkey made me nervous, but not as nervous as knowing this would be the last Thanksgiving with my mother. I thought that if I cooked this turkey, this first and last turkey, then at least Thanksgiving might be a small reprieve, a moment of normalcy when life insists on moving forward even during its inevitable endings.
I made many trips upstairs to Mom’s bedroom to ask cooking questions. But when she asked me if I’d found Grandma Fannie’s stuffing recipe, I knew this Thanksgiving meal was about more than me cooking the food. Grandma Fannie, my mother’s mother, had died about a dozen years earlier, but her presence and the continuity her recipes provided were comforting, like I suspected my mother’s were about to become.
My question-and-answer trips upstairs paid off. All the food, including the turkey, turned out better than I expected. All of it, the mashed potatoes, gravy, fresh cranberry sauce, mustard coated green beans, and sweet potato casserole was on the table. We, my brother, the in-home health care provider, (she was a gem, but I can’t remember her name), Mom, and me, decided we wanted a pecan pie, all of us in need of the ultra-sweetness only a pecan pie can deliver. This Thanksgiving, unlike others, a distinct note of anticipatory nostalgia was in the air that even the vase of bronze and yellow chrysanthemums couldn’t dull.
I know. This isn’t the usual upbeat, chatty cooking guide to Thanksgiving. But holidays–love ‘em or hate ‘em–have a way of kicking up the past. In the thirty-six years since my mother’s death, cooking Grandma Fannie’s stuffing recipe, elicits her presence along with my mother’s, adding a pinch of comfort to what used to be, what sometimes still is, a very difficult day. In other words, the act of cooking Thanksgiving dinner fills me up even before I’ve had a bite of food. And that’s no small thing.
GRANDMA FANNIE’S STUFFING: Enough for about 6 people
The key to this recipe is using chicken fat and the meat from turkey necks cooked in chicken stock! If you are a vegetarian or vegan, omit the chicken fat, chicken stock, eggs and turkey neck meat. Substitute olive oil, vegetable stock, and extra veggies, maybe a bit of Marmite, but in all honesty…it won’t taste the same.
I’ve changed a few things from Grandma’s original recipe to make it easier and a bit more modern. I don’t use the giblets, preferring the meat from turkey necks cooked in chicken broth. Also, since I don’t have a grinder, I chop the onions into large dice, and dice the cooked turkey neck meat if necessary after I pull it from the bones.
Technically, this is dressing since it is cooked outside the cavity of the turkey. I highly recommend you cook it this way since it will allow the turkey to cook faster and ensure the stuffing/dressing is also cooked through.
Ingredients:
1 loaf sliced white bread, either from a bakery or grocery store.
Turkey necks, 3 or 4
Chicken broth, canned or boxed is more than FINE! You’ll need about 3 cups
1/2 cup chicken fat
2 large onions, cut into large dice
3-4 celery stalks, washed and cut into small dice
2 eggs, beaten slightly
Salt, dried sage, dried thyme, garlic powder, smoked paprika. I’m sorry, but the measurements here are inexact to say the least.
Butter or olive oil to coat casserole dish, more to drizzle on top before baking if you want
Instructions:
Pre-heat oven to 325 degrees
Place bread slices on baking sheets. Bake in oven, turning over slices every 5 minutes or so until bread is dried out, slightly toasted. This will take about 20 minutes or so depending on your oven. Remove toasted bread from oven to cool.
While bread is toasting, cook turkey necks on stovetop in a small to medium stockpot, in chicken broth. Use enough chicken broth to just cover the necks. Cook on medium heat for about 30 minutes, until meat is completely cooked through. Remove cooked turkey necks to a board or plate to cool. DO NOT DISCARD BROTH! If the broth has bits of “stuff” from the turkey necks you can strain it.
While the bread is toasting and the turkey necks are simmering you can start cooking the onions.
In a large skillet, warm half the chicken fat over medium-low heat. Add diced onion and cook the onions until they are very translucent and begin to slightly brown, stirring regularly.
Tear the cooled, toasted bread into bite-size pieces and place in a large mixing bowl. Using your fingers or a small knife, remove as much meat from the turkey necks as you can and place in bowl with the bread.
Add the diced celery, the 2 beaten eggs, and the rest of the chicken fat. Mix thoroughly.
At this point you need to decide if the mixture needs additional moisture. It probably will. This is where the broth comes in. Add broth, about 1/2 cup at a time until you think the bread is wet enough but not soggy.
Now you can add salt, dried sage, dried thyme, garlic powder and smoked paprika. Start with 1 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of the other spices. Mix well. Take a small portion, about a tablespoon, put it into a skillet with some olive oil and cook it on both sides so you can taste for seasoning. Adjust as necessary. Maybe more salt? Maybe more garlic powder? You be the judge. I like to echo the flavors of the cooked turkey.
Increase oven heat to 350 degrees
Once you're satisfied with the taste of the stuffing, place it in the oiled casserole dish without packing it down too much. I like to drizzle more olive oil over the top before baking.
Cover with foil and place in the oven. Bake for about 25 minutes. Remove foil and continue baking until top of casserole is browned, about another 15 or so minutes. Internal temperature should be 165 degrees using a kitchen thermometer.
Oh Suzanne, you know how much affinity I feel to this post, my own mixed-up feelings about losing my own mother at a much-too-young age (both of us) on Thanksgiving Day. I'm 15 years behind you -- it's been 21 years since my mother died -- and Thanksgiving is just complicated for me. It always will be. Thanks for reminding me of how bittersweet it is -- some years more bitter, others more sweet.
Also, I love that photo of you.
Hello Elizabeth! I know how bitter and sweet this holiday is for you too. I’m glad you maybe found a bit of comfort reading about that particular Thanksgiving of mine. Here’s to more sweet days than bitter ones.