Bacon Covered Roasted Turkey

There’s nothing more frightening than cutting into the Thanksgiving turkey and finding dry, unappealing meat. The air of silence falls over the table as everyone saws through slices of the main course as if it were pressure treated lumber. It’s awkward for anyone eating and nothing short of heartbreaking for the cook.

There is an essential combination that fights off dryness and turns an average turkey into the star of a meal that will be remembered for countless holidays. Brining, boosting flavor with an herbed butter, and taking advantage of the miraculous properties of bacon are the keys to true Thanksgiving turkey glory.

Bacon-Covered Roasted Turkey

Choose a fresh turkey—and read the label to make sure it hasn’t been injected with a saline or flavor solution—to ensure a juicy and perfectly seasoned holiday centerpiece.

2 cups medium-flake kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)

2 cups firmly packed light brown sugar

3 Tbsp. black peppercorns

1 Tbsp. mustard seeds

1 (12-lb.) whole fresh turkey

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

2 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley

1 Tbsp. chopped fresh sage

1⁄2 tsp. table salt

1⁄2 tsp. freshly ground pepper

Kitchen string

6 bacon slices (not thick cut)

Garnishes: roasted carrots, fresh bay leaves

1. Combine first 4 ingredients and 2 qt. water in a saucepan, and cook over

medium heat 5 minutes or until salt and sugar are dissolved. Remove from heat.

Divide liquid between 2 large (10- to 12-cup) bowls; add 4 cups ice cubes to

each bowl and enough cold water to make 10 cups of brine in each bowl. Stir

until ice melts and both mixtures are completely cool (about 5 minutes).

2. Remove giblets and neck from turkey, and reserve for another use, if

desired. Place turkey in an 18-qt. food-grade plastic container or stockpot.

Pour brine into cavity and over turkey, covering turkey completely. Place in

refrigerator. Cover and chill 24 hours, turning turkey once halfway through.

3. Combine butter and next 4 ingredients in a small bowl.

4. Preheat oven to 350°. Remove turkey from brine, discarding brine. Rinse

turkey well, including cavity.

5. Starting at neck, carefully loosen and lift skin from breast and drumsticks

using your fingers. (Do not totally detach skin.) Rub 3⁄4 cup butter mixture

under skin; carefully replace skin. Tie ends of legs together with string; tuck

wing tips under. Place turkey, breast side up, on a lightly greased rack in a

roasting pan; rub remaining butter mixture over skin.

6. Roast turkey at 350° for 1 hour and 45 minutes, basting with pan juices

every 20 minutes during last 45 minutes of cooking. Remove from oven, and

lay bacon slices, crosswise, over breast and drumsticks.

7. Return turkey to oven; roast 45 minutes to 1 hour or until a meat thermometer

inserted in thickest portion of thigh registers 170°, basting every 15 minutes.

Let stand 30 minutes before carving. Garnish, if desired.

Makes: 8 servings

Hands-on Time: 50 min. Total Time: 4 hr., plus 1 day for brining

(c) Copyright 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC

Recipe from Southern Living Around the Southern Table by Rebecca Lang, Oxmoor House, 2012 

Photo by Jennifer Davick

My Southern Table

 

I am overwhelmed by the warm welcome that my new book has gotten onto bookstore shelves, coffee tables and kitchen counters all over the South. This journey is off to an unforgettable start. 

The exact essay below didn't make it into the final edits of Around the Southern Table. Yet, it is important to me to share some personal moments of my relationship with the table. I'm sure most Southerners could do the same.

My Southern Table

Being welcomed at the table is nothing short of receiving a special gift. It’s a package filled with soothing assurance that you are not alone. It is not simply a piece of furniture made to support a plate and a glass; it is furniture that serves its owners in countless and amazing ways.

    Like so many others, my home is not determined by an address; my home is where those I love gather around the table. The location and the table aren’t always the same, but those that surround it are always family. In times of great celebration, quite reflection or deep loss, the table is forever in the center.

    Much of my life has been marked by unforgettable moments around the table. It was at the table where I tasted my very first tomato sandwich. I ate breakfast at the table while watching the Challenger liftoff and disintegrate into the sky. Years later I slipped my left hand across the shiny oak top to show my grandmother my engagement ring. In that exact same place at the table, my place, I was overcome by the sea of endless food delivered when she passed away. We gathered our parents around the table on a frigid January evening to share the news that their first grandbaby was on the way.

    While sitting down to a bushel of roasted oysters, I was ecstatic to tell my family I was writing my long-awaited third book. I swaddled our brand new baby girl in a bright pink basket on our table the first day we came home from the hospital. We added leaves and pulled up chairs for the biggest brunch I could cook after each of our children was baptized.  Hours after the death of my father-in-law, I sat alone at our table in the middle of the night and cried until no more tears would come. While sitting on his tiny knees at the table, my son said the blessing all by himself for the first time.

    It is at the table where I have grown-up, loved, laughed, prayed, celebrated and experienced so many of the defining moments in my life. This long relationship does not make me unique. Most Southerners could tell a very similar story about the table where they sit to dine each day. The Southern table does not just fill a room or a corner; it fills our very lives and enriches our souls.

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved.

www.rebeccalangcooks.com

For the Love of Batter

On a recent mention of my love of batter, I was asked, with a hefty dose of judgement, “You really eat that stuff?” With my head held high, I answered, “Yes. Yes I do.”  A latecomer to the conversation would have thought I just confessed to a heinous unsolved crime. I understand that there is a fear, although not in my house, of the danger of raw eggs. There’s also a chance I’ll be run over while I’m getting my mail. There was a farmer, a cow, and a chicken that all sacrificed for me to have the finest ingredients for my cake. Don’t you think I practically owe it to them to have a respectful few spoonfuls?

I don’t do drugs, there is no flask of liquor in my purse, I don’t steal or cheat, and I only cuss when absolutely necessary. As far as I’m concerned, if batter eating is my worst vice, I’m doing better than most. Like many others, I started as a child with the typical lick or two of the beaters or a tiny taste off the spoon. But once the mixer belonged to me, the beater treat alone just would not do.

Cake batter is my creamy delight of choice (although I rarely decline a little raw biscuit dough). Pound cakes are always my first preference, but most batters will do. (Except red velvet. I just can’t eat blood red batter.) A few spoonfuls of buttery goodness makes a good day great and a bad day better. Normally, I don’t make cakes because I’m looking forward to a slice later in the day. It’s for a more immediate fix. It’s for the love of batter. Sure, my cakes end up being a tiny bit smaller, but it’s worth every millimeter of height.

Even with the overwhelming emotion I feel for batter, I would never be so reckless and irresponsible to recommend that you consume it. It’s way too dangerous. The liability would be immense. If you should ever find yourself holding a spoon mounded with batter, remember to eat only at your own risk. 

Pound Cake and a Half

This recipe is known as “Peach Mama Pound Cake and a Baby Cake” by my sweet 2 year old little girl. It’s perfect for our family. A fruity large pound cake and a small plain one. Just about any fruit will work in the larger cake. Blueberries and plums are really good.

3 sticks unsalted butter

8 oz. cream cheese

3 cups sugar

6 eggs

3 cups all-purpose flour (such as Gold Medal)

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 tsp. almond extract

2 cups chopped peaches (chopped into 1/2-inch pieces)

1. Preheat oven to 325°. Place butter and cream cheese in the bowl of a heavy-duty electric stand mixer, and beat at medium speed until light and blended (about 2 minutes).

Gradually add sugar, beating until blended. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating just until yellow disappears after each addition.

2. Slowly add flour, stopping to scrape bowl as needed. Stir in almond extract.

Pour about 4 cups batter into a greased and floured 6-inch (4 1/2 cup) mini-bundt pan. Stir chopped peaches into remaining batter. Pour batter into a greased and floured 10-inch (11 cup) bundt pan.

3. Bake both cakes at 325°. Bake the baby cake for 45 minutes. Bake the larger cake for 1 hour 30 minutes or until a long wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.

Makes: 2 cakes 

From Canada to my Georgia Kitchen

Field of Blooming Canola

Canola oil has been a staple in my kitchen for as long as I remember. I reach for it more often than I think about. For frying, sautéing, marinating, you name it and I’ve put Canola oil in it. Getting an opportunity to travel to the home of Canola was an invitation that didn’t require a second thought to accept. Until this trip to Saskatchewan, I knew very little about the origins of Canola. (I just knew it was good.) It’s a bit like not noticing the forest for the trees.

Canola Flower

I was privileged to be included in a select group of food professionals that were graciously invited to attend "Canola Camp" in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (Hosted by CanolaInfo and the Canola Council of Canada). During my flight into Saskatoon, the land below looked like a glorious patchwork quilt of yellow and green. I was raised in a community surrounded by fertile farmland but had never seen lush and bright crops flourishing in every direction. The incredible blanket of color was contained only by the horizon.

Canola Seed

To really understand an ingredient, you have to see where it comes from, how it grows, and talk with those those that make a living by growing it. It's accurate that Canola oil has no trans fats or cholesterol and the most omega-3's of any oil. It's a fact that the oil is rich in Vitamins E and K. It's also true that Canola is the lifeblood of western Canada and the people there are just as vital to the growth of the plants as the sunshine itself. 
Like most crops, the journey that Canola takes from planting to pressing to enhancing recipes is lined with those that have invested so much of their lives and energy into the process that creates an oil that can be found in kitchens all over the globe. To have a glance into that world is nothing short of amazing.
My time up close and personal with Canola gave me craving for my cast-iron skillet. It's like catching fish all afternoon with no flame to cook them for supper. I will never again pour another tablespoon of Canola oil without picturing those glorious fields, the farmers, and the Canadian hospitality I was lucky enough to experience firsthand.

Fried Green Tomatoes

Serves 8

Canola oil

1 cup cornmeal

4 large green tomatoes (about 2 pounds)

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

2 large eggs

1/4 cup buttermilk

In a large skillet, pour the Canola oil to a depth of 1/4 inch. Heat the skillet over medium heat until a pinch of cornmeal sizzles when sprinkled in.

While the oil heats, peel and slice the tomatoes into 1/2-inch-thick slices.

Combine the cornmeal, flour, salt, and pepper in a large mixing bowl. Combine the eggs and buttermilk in a small mixing bowl.

Coat each tomato slice with the cornmeal mixture; dip thoroughly in the egg mixture, and return to coat a second time in the cornmeal mixture.

Carefully place about half of the coated tomato slices in the hot oil and fry for 3 to 4 minutes per side, or until golden brown. Repeat with the remaining tomato slices.

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved.

Recipe adapted from Quick-Fix Southern (Andrews McMeel, 2011) by Rebecca Lang

www.rebeccalangcooks.com

Summertime Pea Salad

Nothing symbolizes summer like shelling peas on the porch. There were days growing up that the entire afternoon was spent on the screened porch with massive stainless steel bowls slowly being filled with pink-eyed purple hulls, white acres, or black-eyed peas. The floor was tiled with old newspapers to catch the hulls as they fell empty, one by one. Any leftover time before sundown was spent blanching and freezing enough peas to properly feed us through winter.

A sweet friend, Brooke Stortz, brought me a tremendous bag of shelled and ready to cook lady peas. I blanched a few for later and made a salad for supper. With Vidalia onions in season and real tomatoes now coming off the vines, this colorful salad is the epitome of summertime.

Lady Pea Summer Salad

5 cups shelled fresh lady peas

1 teaspoon salt

1 medium tomato, chopped

1 small Vidalia onion, diced

3 tablespoons chopped fresh basil

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

Bring 7 cups water to a boil in a large saucepan. Add 1 teaspoon salt.  Add peas and cook for about 35 minutes, or until tender. Drain and cool. Transfer peas to a large mixing bowl. Stir in tomato, onion, and basil.

Whisk olive oil, white wine vinegar, lemon juice, and mustard together in a small measuring cup. Pour over peas and stir well. Allow salad to sit for 15 before serving.

Serves 4

NOTE: Salad can be made one day in advance. Add basil before serving.

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved.

www.rebeccalangcooks.com

A Mother's Love with a Side of Buttermilk Waffles

I have written about my grandmothers countless times, but very rarely do I write about my own mother. I no longer have my grandmothers and writing about them is the way I stay connected. Sa died long before I was old and smart enough to appreciate her presence and really deeply know her as an adult. Parkinson’s disease stole her from all of us. Tom passed away nearly in perfect health at the age of 100.

Mama is Tom’s daughter. (I don’t like the use of past tense for family. Even if a mother is no longer living, her child is still her child.) My mother goes by many names: Mama, Mandy, Mom, and Mimi and she is nothing short of my saving grace each day.

I often take her for granted, as many children do their mother. Until I became a mother six years ago, I had no comprehension of a mother’s love. I'd always heard of the depth of it and had a real respect for it, but honestly still had no clue. The very moment I laid eyes on my own child, I knew. I firmly believe that until you become a mother, you cannot truly grasp the all-encompassing, overwhelming strength of a mother’s love. Just like most mothers in the world, I would die without a second’s thought for either of my children, no questions asked. I love them unconditionally and passionately. Now, I know this is the love that my mother has for my sister and me.

Mama is giving, sometimes slightly shy (unless she is with those she knows well and then her big personality shines), loving, a gifted teacher, and a true friend. She spent 29 years of her life racing to school before the sun came up to teach second grade. She has an immense love for where she came from and my dad is still her center. As a daughter and her friend, I can say, I’m proud of her and who she is.

We don’t share the love of cooking but we share something much greater - a love of my children. I would trust her with them in any situation and know they love her nearly like they love me. I could not write an article, much less a cookbook, without her in the background keeping my family running and on track.

Mama is at my house several days each week to help me with my children. She is my shadow that is the helping hand in all I do. I am so grateful I don’t have a nanny or a long list of babysitters to spend valuable time with my children. I have my mama. She is someone that loves them wholeheartedly and relishes every second with them. A lifetime of Thank You's would not be enough.

None of us should wait until Mother’s Day to thank and appreciate our mothers. In several ways, all days are made possible by mothers everywhere. For the holiday, I'm hoping to start the day with homemade waffles, tell Mama how much I care, snuggle my babies as long as they'll let me, and squeeze in a nap or two.  

Soft Buttermilk Waffles

Makes 8 Belgian-sized waffles

Tom would make big batches of her waffles for us to keep in the freezer at our house. The soft, fluffy waffles would be stored for morning cravings or afternoon snacks. I still prefer my waffles soft like hers. When the steam stops coming out of the waffle maker, the waffles are ready.

The waffles can be frozen for up to 2 months by placing sheets of wax paper in between each one and sealing them in a resealable plastic freezer bag. Place the frozen waffles directly in the toaster for 2 to 3 minutes, or until toasted and lightly browned.

1/4 cup unsalted butter

2 tablespoons Crisco shortening

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup sugar

1 large egg

1 cup milk

3/4 cup buttermilk

Preheat a Belgian waffle maker according to the manufacturer’s directions.

Combine the butter and shortening in a microwave-safe measuring cup. Melt them in the microwave, about 45 seconds.

Combine the flour, baking soda, salt, and sugar in a large mixing bowl.

Whisk the egg, milk, and buttermilk together in a medium mixing bowl and stir into the dry ingredients. Slowly pour the melted butter and shortening into the batter.

Lightly spray the heated waffle maker with nonstick cooking spray. Pour half (about 2 cups) of the batter in the waffle maker. Cook according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Repeat with the remaining 2 cups of batter.

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved.  

Recipe from Quick-Fix Southern by Rebecca Lang, Andrews McMeel Publishing 2011

www.rebeccalangcooks.com

Spring Recipes Supreme

The pollen count is in full swing, the sun hangs a little longer in the sky and the temperatures are climbing everyday. Easter is right around the corner and spring is here to stay. Like so many others, it's my favorite time of year. Little bursts of color cover nearly every inch of the outdoors and I'm close to breathless waiting for my first hummingbird to visit the feeder.

Cooking in spring is meant to be easy. God's already given us the freshest, best ingredients that have waited all winter to show off. Get to kitchen and usher in all the flavor of the season.

Little Beet Salad

Serves 4

 If you can’t find small beets, cut larger ones into 1-inch pieces. Although harder to find than the typical red, look for beets that are different colors, like white or yellow. Choose the beets with the greens attached.

3/4 pound small beets (about the size of a golf ball)

1 cup beet greens

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 teaspoon coarse-grained mustard

1/8 teaspoon ground ginger 

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/4 teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

3 cups mixed lettuce leaves

Remove the tops from the beets and peel the beets. Cut each beet into 4 wedges. Steam in a steamer basket for 18 minutes, or until fork-tender.

Meanwhile, choose 1 cup of the smallest of the beet greens, stack the leaves, and slice into ribbons. Set aside.

Whisk together the red wine vinegar, mustard, ginger, lemon juice, and salt. While whisking, slowly pour the olive oil into the vinegar mixture.

Combine the lettuce and sliced beet greens and arrange on a small platter. Toss the warm steamed beets with about half the dressing in a small mixing bowl. Pour the beets over the lettuce. Serve the remaining dressing on the side.

Jalapeño Deviled Eggs

Makes 24

12 large eggs

3/4 cup mayonnaise

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon finely chopped pickled jalapeño peppers

1/4 teaspoon salt

Cover the eggs with about 1 inch of cold water in a large saucepan. Bring the water to a boil over high heat. When the water boils, turn the heat off and let the eggs sit for 10 minutes. Submerge the eggs under cold water. Peel the eggs while holding them in running cold water. Slice the eggs in half lengthwise.

Remove the yolks from the eggs and place in a medium mixing bowl. Using a whisk, combine the yolks, mayonnaise, mustard, peppers, and salt.

Carefully spoon the yolk mixture back into the egg whites. 

Pecan-Crusted Racks of Lamb

Serves 6

2 (1 1/2-pound) racks of lamb, frenched

1/2 cup pecan halves

2 cups loosely packed fresh mint leaves

1/4 cup loosely packed fresh herbs

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon lemon zest

1/3 cup olive oil

Preheat the oven to 450˚F.  Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil. 

Place the racks of lamb on the prepared baking sheet. The racks should be lying down with the bones curving toward the bottom of the pan. 

Finely chop the pecans, mint leaves, and herbs. Place the pecans and minced herbs in a medium mixing bowl. Add the garlic, salt, pepper, and lemon zest. Stir in the olive oil. 

Using half of the herb mixture for each rack, spread the mixture on top of the racks. Pat the herb mixture gently so as to coat the entire top side. 

Bake at 450˚F for 25 minutes, or until a meat thermometer registers 130˚F for medium- rare. Let the lamb rest  at least 5 minutes before carving. To carve, slice between each bone.

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved.  

Recipes from Quick-Fix Southern by Rebecca Lang, Andrews McMeel 2011

www.rebeccalangcooks.com